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.