Intermezzo

(There is a ticket, with my name on it, headed for New York. It comes with a return ticket, an end date. It exhilarates me to think I will soon enough walk those streets. Suddenly, how close the City again, how real.

It terrifies me to realize how short lived the joy. To realize that I willingly tear every single one of those stitches, cut open those burning scars, let myself bleed for mere hours of breathing my City, sleeping calm in its steady beat. My pulse races, my skin is warm to the touch, I long to see you.

It already hurts so much, to leave you again.)