The Clothes The Night Stood Up In

I was too young and naïve to spend the night
out and about
besides, those days Warsaw shone so far
its glitter, its zest veiled out.
Now pinpoint that light and multiply it
by a thousand signs.
Let it challenge the mighty Milky Way train
for no galaxy or constellation was as bright
as the grand Varsovian neons;
they wore fashionable shades of deep blue skies
and it took one blink of theirs to set darkness alight.

I came far too late to this town of sighs,
mute and uncouth
as I was, I kept my eyes wide open to compensate
the little I said and understood.
Pickpocketing details stolen from
nocturnal sights.
Still valiant challengers of celestial bodies
for no galaxy or constellation is as bright
as the last Varsovian neons;
even though they left their bag of ingenious tricks
in a well-chosen cloakroom for everyone to collect it. 

Those Were The Nights

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