The humidity unfurled in torrid pulse-strokes drenched with soft-skinned summer musk, swooning like a locust swarm up and down Fifth Avenue. Chaos lingered in the waning wreckage of a strawberry moon. Shadows whispered under Saturn’s winking eye. American flags flailed recklessly as darkness hunkered down. I wallowed in the pale dusk, still reeling from a nuclear aftershock of psychosexual delusion. Red and white, seared together pink as flesh. The stars were out. I sang the blues.
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