See the lights from above and try
        to pick out familiar places
in glowing cul-de-sacs,

highways, restaurants, homes.
        Might as well stare at a fire,
find patterns in soft glowing coals—

the lights have already blurred
        into jewels and sequined memory,
a party dress left to wrinkle on the floor.

Attempt to recall every detail
        as wings and skin shudder
in cold night air, uplifted.

Find comfort in the rising warmth
        of this familiar, structured quilt—
cling to phantom sensation in separation.

Lose sight of origin in continuous mazes,
        threaded in straight lines and curves,
colored pin-pricks in starless silk display.

After warmth of velvet, pavement, and ink,
        departure feels cold for a moment—
whispers the starched unrest of empty bedsheets.

Let your eyes cloud until
        the faded vision becomes a dream,
until you awake to city lights once more.