Writing

The Orange Lights of the Boulevard 

I’m gonna miss those rides. Me taking you home in that beat up Dodge pickup truck along the boulevard. The orange lights of the city above us–shining through the truck’s windows and helping me to be able to see you through the dark.  You smiling at me with your brown skin glowing and your brown eyes glistening. Your black curly hair up in a ponytail and you have own your black yoga pants with your favorite college shirt. 

Driving you downtown to your home was never a chore to me. It was always a thing of beauty. Hearing the rumble of the engine and you telling me about our night together. I enjoyed taking you home and being inside your home. Then after I’d leave, I’d smile and embrace the long trek home under the city’s lights.

All good things must come to an end though. We’ve since moved on and went our separate ways. I don’t even have the Dodge pickup truck anymore. Everything will eventually become memories. So to you and those orange-lit boulevard nights…goodbye.

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