Hot spring nights,
The world is flowers and pollen.
I walk down suburban streets and think of you.
I don’t know why my mind comes back,
Why you knowing me as I am is something I want to hold on to.
My thoughts jumble at the bottom of the bottle.
I wonder if I’ve had too much wine tonight.
I know the sound of the streets in Manhattan,
My heart races with the G into the Brooklyn night.
I wonder why life is drawn in subway lines,
Where the heart is that these veins seek.
Who am I to map this corner of the universe,
My balcony a fire escape, to your views of the East River.
I live in one city and hundreds at once.