Steadfast under sodium dusk, we walk
through the slow collapse of hours,
your hand a quiet metronome against my pulse.
Neon bleeds into puddles like old prophecies
but our shadows refuse to blur;
they knit together, stitching asphalt to sky.
When the city’s heart skips a beat
we keep the rhythm, barefoot on broken glass,
whispering the same vow with every breath—
even when the night erases its own name
we stay, we stay, we stay.