The city glows beneath you.
The skyline blurred by distance and drinks.
Her top left behind at the water’s edge,
Your jeans dropped carelessly beside it.
The pool still lit. Water moving with the music inside.
A phone face down. One buzz, then silence.
The kind of night that you remember, long after the sun comes up.
This crewneck isn’t just fabric.
It’s a timestamped relic — 1:58 AM in Sunset Hills.
An artifact of the night you don’t explain, because the right eyes already know.
A parallel universe you swear you’ve lived before.
The city glows beneath you.
The skyline blurred by distance and drinks.
Her top left behind at the water’s edge,
Your jeans dropped carelessly beside it.
The pool still lit. Water moving with the music inside.
A phone face down. One buzz, then silence.
The kind of night that you remember, long after the sun comes up.
This crewneck isn’t just fabric.
It’s a timestamped relic — 1:58 AM in Sunset Hills.
An artifact of the night you don’t explain, because the right eyes already know.
A parallel universe you swear you’ve lived before.
