East Village

"What do you want to talk about?"
Her words hung in the air like a Van Gogh.
He hardly heard her.
He was watching her lips -
The way they formed letters and words.
He touched them
And said:
"I want to talk all night long...
Until day breaks
And the rains come.
I want to watch you sleep
And eat.
What would you like to talk about?"
She smiled, and imagined waking up next to him.
She closed her eyes, only to open them quickly -
Afraid that in that moment he'd be gone,
And that this was just a dream.
He wasn't.
It wasn't.
And time took a deep breath,
Letting the moment linger...