G. Z. Kieft

we were in the city of lights
new york
silver buildings piercing up
like the prongs on a fork
gambling money against
experiences that fell short
battling against a crowd of unrest
in an instagram race
of sorts
knowing that the value of a sunset
of course
was only ever in seeing the colors
caress against that face
of yours
yet
for all the money we spent
and value we lost
i see no waste in spending effort
on the memories it caused