>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