Manhattan Soliloquy

...dedicated to Hart Crane (1899-1932) As I dream the sounds of morning sliver, cut my senses; slow, persistent slices pierce my eyes to ragged wakefulness. The muffled cries of merchant hustle and the honking of the traffic, the noises of a summer's day displace my reveries. I wake, and through my window I see barges in the harbour, bustling like beetles, scuttling over busy waters, dragging ships with overflowing cargoes safe to rest - the dockhands primed and ready to disgorge the merchandise as sunshine washes monoliths of steel and glass in dazzling refinement - Manhattan like a mass of molten gold, smoldering and bold. Steam and smoke engulf a vibrant scene encompassing, then drifting into nothingness, the sky a blazing blue, the docks a maze of rarified activity as yelling fills the air. Beams irradiate my garret - drafts of bright and humid air like punches in the stomach take the breath out of my lungs and leave me gasping. I sit and watch you sleeping on the bed. You stretch atop the covers like a vision, your legs and arms a picture in repose; I do not dare to wake you from your slumbers, your limbs splayed like a strumpet, you expose your naked form, my touch will flutter your desire. Your body 'wrapped in mine, our souls a living sacrament to love and joy divine. We congregate, and all the stars explode, fulfillment is our quest, our sacred testament. As evening gently falls the windows glimmer, the city glistens now from altered light; the glowing falters as the sun dips slowly, dying in the West, makes way for night. Activity's still rife, but in my garret, I reach for you as darkness settles soft, I hold you in my arms, forever blessed, while stars are quietly dancing up aloft.