the city and sunset
08/30/2004 04:37 a.m.
walking down the city's filthy pavement, my eyes follow the clouds to the horizon line where the sun is setting. my heart is throbbing with thoughts of you. i think it's perfect that i arrive at the sunset as i'm passing your apartment, wishing for you to see me from your bedroom window and come running out of the lobby with your arms open. we'd lay on the grass and watch the river shimmer in all its pollution with nothing but our breath between us. but i sit by the riverside without you. i know you are a block from me, but the city roars traffic between the road i'd cross to get you and you don't even know i'm steps from your window. the sun is red, it says to me, go get him but i don't listen.

thump

...

thump

thump
thumpthump
thumpthumpthumpthump

it's raining, now

and i run for cover (the ten foot tree beneath your window, surrounded by concrete)

the sky sends me tears, as if i need them.