Tokyo Date

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Our shoulders brush past eachother. Bright, fluorescent neon lights of red and blue stained the streets and outline the forms of our faces. Your face is calm, the lighting of Tokyo outshines the beauty your grin posses, like a model of pop art.

Even with the pitch black bubble of the night sky, the city still lives. Advertisings of a language we dont understand fill out the sky. Sounds are fuzzy as locals walk past us and we walk in comfortable silence, eating the warm ramen that sit comfortably in our hands. Heat soaking our palms as the seasoned strands flood our taste buds.

The towering glass skyscrapers look down upon us, a reminder of how small our lives are in the grand scheme of things. But this cool night and the knowledge that were are the only ones who can understand eachother, fills out the emptiness of space. We are each others world; each step of our worn out sneakers, with laces loosely tied in large bows slap the wet surface of the black street.

After a while we steal a glance at eachother and laugh, you had forgotten you were still eating. You choked on your food letting out an ugly gurgling sound. Locals looked at us concerned as I patted your back holding back giggles, with tears rolling down my face. You were a coughing mess in the middle of Tokyo, ramen juice stuck around you mouth and cheeks as if you slept on a lollipop.

When you finished you looked up at me and smiled, and of course I smiled back.

We were two idiot tourists in love in Tokyo.

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