The District allures…
like a casual dalliance gone awry—
like the jealousy-heart conundrums
easily solved in the stark, dawn light
of absolution...
The District lights littered 18th
with melancholy eyes;
blearily blinking in accordance with
gaits both hazy and tragic.
The District sounds filled up the night,
blaring miasmic from warrens oozing desolation—
a raucous metronome for the slurring swerve of
befuddled minds and wandering hearts.
Within the District the night envelops:
cooing with promises luscious and infinite,
disappointing with whispers gilded and tepid—
ultimately, a pantomime of the lovelorn evening.