We went under the city by way of the subway then shot back up toward the sky in the middle of ‘33, our hearts into each other we collapsed. Some called it love we had no name for it, save New York City. We went out at night and came back home drunk with the sunrise. Those were summer nights and our youth unfolded within them. We didn’t mind. One night Maria told me a rhyme about Seventh Avenue while together we were eating cheeseburgers beneath the July moon and deciding what would happen with our lives. Prayers. We had prayers. Journeys. We had journeys.
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