the fruit and the salt and the snow
and the stretch marks,
New York City looks good in grey.
Lonesome arts, fountains,
here we stand.
do what you did,
unwired and uninspired,
until I broke your glass.
Dance.
art and place,
I am going to where
there is no rumor of depression.
it's been so long,
I don't even now.
Yu live
and You learn,
see what I did there?