Cornea

When the morning sun sleeps we float along the mile, swaying with the city heartbeat. The neon lights of the Gold Coast bars tempt us with laughter and the avenue shops wink as we pass. Pedestrians saturate the Pier, perfumed in bitter Marlboro. The murky waves mumble my name in their sweet song, and I follow their voices to the blonde sand, rough like razor blade kisses. I dive into the blood of the beast. the frozen water pinches my skin and I look through its eyes. The city comes alive.