Various and Sundry Poetry

underneath this city

The  New York subway tunnels in July hold
an indescribable heat.

We woke early on Sunday. You reached
for me, or I for you, I can’t remember which.

I don’t know these lines well yet. I am a fish
wriggling my way upstream.

You brought coffee, strong and hot, lay it
gently on the nightstand.

I keep thinking about the time that it will feel
like I’ve lived here forever.

Whenever our gaze collides, I am certain I could swim
in your eyes
forever.

A small window of good fortune: the late night train
arriving without a wait.

I go to sleep wrapping arms around you,
even when you’re not there.

Underneath this city, another city.

Love, humming through the tracks.