NYC NYC

for what its worth

Traveling on Miles of ugly
She wiped away the endless drizzle
Boots of fear kicked at the likelihood
of unexpected disaster.
Her story no more torrid than some
But faithlessness produces little hope.
Dark in belief
Spirited in a godless sort of way
How could one more romance
Quickened from invetro
unhinge her so
the door of unlikelihood
creaks painstaking open
tightly tucked military corners
frame romance
daylight cracks through venetion blinds
slits of soul splatter across undulating flesh
where love is just another bingo number
and luck is just a word
she moans the joy of surrender
to the child of hope