I moved, but did not want to, that day into night when my
best friend convinced me to see the ball drop, where we stood shoulder to
shoulder, the multitude coming after the birth of Christ, yet hours before a
new year gave birth, indistinct, helpless to control my limbs, in a place I
came to make connections to some other part of a city that never sleeps,
pausing at times to peruse shops selling electronic junk, x-ray glasses, spy
cameras, tiny tape recorders, all I wanted but had no real purpose for, here
now in a pointless wait for time to move on, the clock ticking like a time bomb,
aging me without my consent, to witness the demise of the old year, and to
celebrate a future we could never be certain about, only hopeful, as the massive
crowd moved me, when this was not about love.
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