Remembering moonlight over NYC, for the average dame

She was fitfully enjoying a stale Marb on the fire escape out of stress, in nothing but sweatpants and a frown, but the way my mind remembers her, she was wearing a ballgown and diamonds. The rain had just stopped, so the fire escape glistened with a thousand fireflies, as the sun set over our garbage ally kingdom. The smoke and fog swirled around her like she'd commanded the breeze to decorate her existence. Her hair was wet and tired up but a thousand times to this one, I'd tell you her red locks flowed down her back like gossamer. God, what would I give to breathe back in that careless moment and let the cancer lead me to oblivion.