At the corner of 
Bowery St. mornings start with
Coffee brewed on last night's dreams and the refusal to 
Dampen darkness when it is uncontrollable.

Effervescence is his way of telling me to wake up. Summer sunrises are 
Forged from the unlocked door and are
Gone by the time I realize they are waiting. 

He is happiness and mirror-
Images of yesterday, when
Just we were enough.

Keeping myself whole on the car ride home is 
Like trying to stop the
Mouse from getting eaten by the
Night-watch
Owl.

Punctuation leaves a hole where there should be breaths. 
Quiet has to be
Reasoned with and 
Stolen from the
Tired metal staircase of an over-
Used Manhattan apartment.

Villainy is our aspiration 
When the infinite 
Xenial skylines of 
Your childhood put 
"Zoom" in the word leaving.