Fall 2013: "fast driving on dark roads."

i saw the city of brotherly love from a train window,
boathouses lit up like suburban sprawl at Christmastime.
i saw the empire city,
its heyday gleam now dulled by trash and cynicism.
the golden gate city blinded me with light and color;
as the crescent city sank my heart did, too.
i saw the emerald city and i wanted to consume it, to become it, to drink it in until it
became a part of me, forever.
but the city with a warm wind is the only place we’ve been together,
our white silhouettes in windows high above empty streets
and out adolescent hesitations as we lay between hotel sheets.
fireworks fell over the river, the lake,
reflected in the sheen of skyscrapers and in our own nervous smiles,
shining through the dark.