New York

The roaring train above our heads

more comforting than the the longing

Achingly beautiful in a sad repose

waiting for his breath on my cheek

Big lettered graffiti

on brick red New York faces

and booming hip hop in underground bars

isn’t loud enough to drown out

the water going straight from the heart

to my eyes, pouring as beautiful

and effortless as a peaceful fountain

onto green and wet stone. Inescapable

silence, from my unanswered questions.

A still pond waiting, for the waterlily to bloom.

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