>I pour up Broadway in the early afternoon
>Trying to get home home or not home and I see you
>Lean out your window 12 floors above me
>Like a gargoyle smoking a cigarette and I think
>At that height anyone can be a lover
>Or a stone woman and I think
>Angels grow in your hair
>Voice sounds like cheap champagne
>Bubbling into me
>You, the architect
>Making this building live against the too-blue too-clean
>Sunday morning sky
>I trail on by
>Suspended above the scene you are pulling us all up there
>The building, the street, the metro
>It is the third day
>She is risen
>She exhales perfect rings
>
*jaw drops*
gorgeous.
u make me envy u
the best compliment i can give.
>Something like Eldridge
>Cleaver meets John Lennon