the cony island queen

Monday, July 30, 2012

And she stands there, too many feet away from the boy with his hands stuffed into his pockets and look that would drown a thousand stars if the night weren't already black and lonely.
She waits for too many minutes and he breaks too many times because in his mind, the decision has already been made.
He's not reaching out.
She's not stepping back.  

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