MY CITY

I come to you like so many times before:
Nighttime, summer,
Bright burning behind my eyes,
Bright bird in my chest.

What’s happening?
What’s one night or the next? 

How your heat makes a stream down my spine as I walk.
How your underground train moves me.
How our expectations are managed by age.

My city:
Where planes land.

I kiss your mouth as oysters bream the harbor,
I kiss your mouth
As a sleeping woman kisses the sidewalk.