the misty balconies of new york

i just wander through the streets, where fog clings strict, each step feels sparse. the weight here hums low, a secret note beneath stone. i once saw a girl with a hat like clouds-maybe she’s ghost?

You might also be interested in:

• https://votoris.com/post/lost-in-lisbon-3526617-1484334948-a-whirlwind
• https://votoris.com/post/hanoi-why-im-still-here-even-though-its-24-degrees-and-everyone-hates-me
• https://votoris.com/post/what-the-hell-is-even-happening-in-noida-right-now
• https://votoris.com/post/baghdads-busted-paychecks-whos-actually-hiring-spoiler-bring-your-own-ac
• https://votoris.com/post/sharjah-suburbs-deep-dive-families-freelancers-and-the-occasional-chaos