Urban Lights

It started in a street concert where I exchanged my pride for you.

“Here’s my heart. Can you hold it?” I asked.

Then came loud music scoring and you asked. “What? I don’t hear you.”

“I’m bored,” I said in between the screams and I saw you smile.

“So you want to talk?” you asked and I nodded.

We slid past the crowd through the mix smell of alcohol, smoke and midlife crisis. The music was good and the night quite warm, but all I wanted was to get you out of there so we could watch the stars somewhere.

We sat side beside each other on the hot concrete by the sidewalk. I stared at the Christmas lights decorating posts and trees and gates. It all looked silly and beautiful at the same time.

“Life tires us so much,” you said laughing. You untied your shoelace then tied them again.

“What life? We’re barely in it,” I blurted and you frowned at the idea.

“Do you feel dead?” you asked. I shrugged that I-don’t-know-shrug. You pat me on the shoulders when you could give me a hug. It’s really crazy that I gave you my heart and you just feel tired.

We two are not stars but urban lights a-blinking. We’re silly and beautiful at the same time. Best if we'd keep this way.