i will miss the winding streets

and the crooked stones that made us stumble

because on cloudy days it was

easy to find empty corners to be alone

(two blocks behind the sleepy bars and there behind the dusty cafe if you had a bad day)

i will miss the girls with daisies woven through their curls

and strings tied round their wrists

because even through they were broken 

they still danced around rooms

singing old songs, picking up each others pieces

and they would spit out smoke

so the chimneys wouldn’t be the only ones

emptying smog

and i will miss the grinning boys 

who smashed bottles the same way they 

smashed hearts, with reckless abandon.

because even though they couldn’t be trusted

they taught us how to trust each other.