Sunday afternoon
February 8th New York City
we exited the train station
directly beneath the Dakota
she told me where we were
as we stood on the corner
I lifted her in my arms
we kissed and spun around
I put her down
and she
swallowed
momentarily looking overwhelmed
she quickly moved us along
through Strawberry Fields
past a creepy indifferent memorial gathering
people who came there everyday to place flowers
and play songs
and take part
in this loosely organized dry-humping
of a ghost
elsewhere we found
disco dancing roller skaters
a DJ
a lost member of Parliament-Funkadelic
astride his pimped out bike
surrounded by New Yorkers declaring their allegiance
with shared smiles for their favorite city
we ate on the steps of Belvedere Castle
above Turtle Pond
overlooking the stage for Shakespeare-in-the-Park
watched some guy
who was probably from New Jersey
slide down a few stairs on his knees
were gifted with free entry to the Met
where we blew through centuries of art
in less than a hundred and twenty minutes
had sushi in Soho
cannolis at Ferrara's
took home a bottle
spent the night inside
ecstatic and officially
made it
boyfriend-girlfriend
and it wasn't until later that she told me
what had happened where
we had been kissing
and almost dancing
on that corner in front of the Dakota
forever more aware of rhythm
when in love
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