Oh, but you have no way of taking back the lights of Radio City at night, the red and blue lights of Avenue of the Americas, the lingering quality dissolved around us, the shimmer, the pounding, the convoluted vibrancy of trapped between the seconds soul. We sit at those little stone tables and chairs and became full accomplices of the night. From our long traveled silences, the night knew that she can give herself completely to us and still swirl free in uncontained horizons. We are flawless and strange lovers of the dark affair, guilty innocents, whole halves, vicious seekers, unflinching keepers of a maddeningly sought after secret, priests of insight and touch.
This is why sometimes I hesitate, this is why sometimes I dare shamelessly This is why I am lost when I should be fluid, this is why you have to take the slow journey of lights and rain closer, and take it with your arms, your strength, your fully-bodied desire. This is why I looked at that window, the big wide window of the sleeping restaurant, a table can be made ours, the colors in the bottles can whisper, the drums in the hiding places can reverse the fate of the night.