Paradise is in my apartment
It can be found over my small work desk
Or on my soft  blue duvet cover

I can be seen in the scooped white bathroom sink
or piercing on the back of a ray of light
that has made its way through my window

Paradise is in the way I love even the smallest fruit fly over my narrow kitchen counter

And when I close the door it follows me down the street to the convenience store, around the corner to the subway station,
down the street to a small mom and pops restaurant