East 10th Street
I looked like a tourist
Two girls asked if I was looking for a place
Trust can be dangerous
When you’re alone
But when you’re young
You can also be incredibly lucky
A month later
I moved to East 10th Street
On a hot August evening.
The next day
Was a feast
Of new
Places
People
Smells
Sounds
And so were the apartments
Thin walls no protection against
Heavy breathing
And night time passions.
One evening
There a knock on my door
I opened
In a hurry
To find her
Waiting
She asked if I had a bottle of wine
Not afraid
She walked in
Soft skin
Hint of perfume
Simmering sensuality
At every step.
Desperately I opened the cabinets
Knowing them empty
But still searching
She waited
Then smiled
And said goodnight
Days after
I looked everywhere
But never saw her again.
Like a scene from a 1950’s
Black and white
French movie
I imagined
Our morning conversation
In bed
Warm bodies touching
Staring up at the ceiling
Speaking in hushed tones
Later we walked
Hand in hand
Through misty city streets
Hungry for breakfast
Sharing a cup of coffee
Waiter smiling patiently.
Our French scene
Never really happened
It is an endless reel
Playing over and over
In an empty theatre
The movie is near
Its end
The lights come on
And I leave with memories.
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