It's warm, but not New York warm, you walk slowly with a breeze on your back to the south Williamsburg pasta factory. Four years you've been coming here, before they lived here you came to admire the view and dream about a life in New York that was yours for the taking. Today it's the longest day of the year and they say their farewells, you cry when no one is watching and try to believe there will be a life after they leave. Remember you left them once and they built a life here in your absence. You are not used to being left behind.
Do you remember that summer, we sat in the fifth floor window and looked at the Manhattan skyline, whispering dreams into the humid summer night and grateful just to be allowed in. It is ours now, this city, it will be yours forever whenever you want to come back to it. The dance floor was sweaty but we escaped back up to that roof to the magic view and endless air. I saw stars but what need had I for them?
I have you.
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