Poem: New York



Vilify me.

Remove my organs.

Make love to me.

Hide the heart.

My blood is pounding.

A waterfall against my ventricles.

Thicken the sentiment,

maybe it will stick

and my body will work properly again.

Where did the falsity come from?

Feeling in a place overpopulated

is as useless as breathing over the dead sea.

Deprived of Oxygen.

Starving for Love.