you are my new york.
i long to rest within your skyscraper heart
but the stairs are too difficult to climb.
yearning
and distant
and nonetheless unattainable.
an enigma,
a dream,
a space within my concrete chest
flooded with sparkling sewer water.
you are too much,
and i am too little.
you veins pulse with light
but i don't know how much longer
i can pay the electric bill.
i can't get close without changing.
i cannot float down the river
swim through your chest
and end up sitting on the sidewalk.
i try and i look up
but at the top of your skyscraper heart,
i am in a cloud
and i cannot see the ground
nor feel the pulse of headlights and movement.
we are unrealistic.
my arms outstretched
but in vain
i cannot be what you need.
millions live within you,
and i am one.