The City that Slept with Me

New York, 

You’ve grown on me.

Like an unruly vine grows on the

wrought-iron gates

of some distinct Bronxville home. 

I promised not to be loved.

After all my sordid love affairs

I promised not to be loved,

But to only love instead. 

You broke my bitter promise, 

And you kept it, all at once-

You’ve loved me like a mother 

Who gives her naked body 

To sustenance. 

Yes, 

New York. 

You've made an unreliably honest 

woman out of me. 

Your winding suburban streets

Have wound themselves right into my heart

And the bursts of air from your city subway vents

Have filled the many crevices of my brain 

And made me a feather-light babe

In love. 

I have parted with my heart, 

On several of your streets and intersections.

And given many a cavernous kiss, 

On your numerous rooftop bars.

And, I too have marveled 

at the droves of your electric stars 

As I joined them in a fast-walking-city heaven; 

Like everyone, with googlemaps open. 

Your labyrinth of expository village walks

Have worked me into a sweating, heaving mess.

And I’ve felt the tingles when 

Your crowded subways thrust 

Nostalgic smells like Old Spice

upon me. 

Indeed, even the bee-line buses’ warm heaters,

Have made me moan in delight 

On not just one, 

But many a frigid evening. 

But no, 

I won't say I'm in love. 

For you have patiently taught me that 

There are dangers in no-filter.

And in forgetting that people are kindred strangers.

But still:

I knew the stubborn truth last night, 

When the sight of your skyline brought a smile

To the very edge of my ears.

I'm only a brief visitor to the intricacies of love, 

Just like every other 
museum perusing
not-quite New Yorker.

But I do see the overwhelming substance of it:

Just like every other 

overspent adventurer

and transitional passenger. 

And, it inspires me to know:

I once left home for ye*, New York. 

But today, I'm coming home to you. 

_____________________

*Until familiarity provides such liberties,

An enclave, as it is, shouldn’t be singular.