ROOFTOPS

The Girl for Lovers and Drifters. 

 
 

The wind was caressing her angel hair as she stood on the rooftop – her sanctuary, her soft asylum. She went there to escape from the sin and mire of New York. She went there to forget about lovers, leavers and searchers.

Who is she? You asked. The feather of her soft reply struck a chord in your hopeful heart.

As inhibitions brewed darkly, her innocence drowned, drowned… in anarchy. Clothed in sunshine, restless in desire. She was the kind of girl who fed on a smorgasbord of hues. She could change you, estrange you, hold you, drop you. Just because.

She was tiptoeing around you, claiming her space. And you watched. You watched because she wanted something from you. She pandered to some strange requests. Anything that you would suggest. Anything that would please her unknown guest. “Love me two times”, she said.

Perhaps, her angel siren voice hypnotized you. Rainbow glares, magic dreams, kaleidoscopic views. Are you watching? Closely. Her reality was as real as her fantasy. She had you under her thumb.

She looked at you with those chatoyant eyes and you knew she was a miracle of the murky streets. A delirious scent of existence. A diamond in the rust. And you felt the disdain, what your eyes tried to explain.

While the sun sunk low, she took away your abiding interest in dreams and visions. “Run with me”, she said softly and quenched your thirst with a velvet kiss. Enjoyed the view? Love her hard, you understood.

Who is she? You asked. She was your rooftop, your sanctuary, your soft asylum. And the feather of her soft reply struck a chord in your now… broken heart. 

The condensed version of this story was published on Lovers & Drifters.