On the second of April when the sky fell
I was on the corner of 14th and Broadway,
dancing among the trash cans
and traffic lights.
You came over that night with pistachios and white wine
and said you wanted to
carry me across the island,
over all of your favorite sidewalks,
under all of your favorite tree tops.
When your sideways smile tickles against me
we manage to pick
up the sky,
and standing on your shoulders I reach into the clouds;
and count the ways.
We’re
candles in the night
and your shadows kiss me
in the fury of the dark
and
[I wonder if you know
that all of the letters in the alphabet spell this story.]
That night we picnicked in the flowerbeds of central park
among the fireflies, city rats
I desperately
searched for your eyes-
pupils, burning black back into mine in the dark.
And I don’t know what I was looking for in the oceans
of your sorrows, lost tomorrows
[but I wanted to know
if
you could feel the things]
I feel.
Because some days when the rain falls
the sky falls
and you know how to pick it up.
You know how to pick me up.
