Creases

Maybe it is the promising city lights, 

the aggressively blurred faces (a result from binge drinking and cannabis) and narrow, saturnine alleys. 

Maybe it is the magniloquent stilettos, tight dresses, and tenacious drunk walks under packed street lights,

Or maybe it is the lipstick stains on the mirror, the creases in the pavement, the admittance to nightclubs, where young women pretend to be ladies, and the combination of bass, jäger, and caramel spilled over the floor.

Oh, but it is the morning after, head throbbing, heels in hand, chasing after the metro.

That is keeps summer in rotterdam alive