I never made it to NYC. And she hasn't ventured out my way.

She's fallen in love, as have I.

And some mornings, she greets me here and we dance for a while and then she takes the elevator down and goes back to her life and I remain here with the glimmer of her, because she casts her shininess, like a net, around me.

Something's changed in our air and yet we reach out for each other, like old lovers, to remember the other is there.

I hope we will always dance this way.

To our rhythm.

Right here.

December 12, 2001