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Into the night hopes bled
and from the grey-violet rimmed sky
the last lights of storied windows shone
like weary stars.
It never grows dark in New York,
only sleepless.
bottom of page
​
Into the night hopes bled
and from the grey-violet rimmed sky
the last lights of storied windows shone
like weary stars.
It never grows dark in New York,
only sleepless.