We tripped out of the subway onto a sunny afternoon tarmac, last of the summer travels underway and that special scent that rests in your shoulders and speaks of transit. We melted into the clean lines of a bygone era, drinking martinis and looking for the cheapest ticket to anywhere, as long as it left right away, everything was a riot.
Thirteen years ago I landed in this city and knew my life had changed for good. Thirteen years I've walked up and down its avenues, I've shuttled back and forth to this airport, I've breathed that sigh of relief as the A train makes its way back, takes me home to the island where my soul rests. In thirteen years I have never loved anything so much, and I've stopped believing that I might. We looked at the departure board, but the truth is there's nowhere I'd rather be than here.
New York, my darling, how many times have you not held me when I've stumbled? How many times have you not smiled at my joy and carried me through my fear? I know I was a person before you coursed through my veins but I cannot now remember who she was, and it really doesn't matter. At the edge of the river lies an island that knows my name when I forget it myself.
For a moment,
for a minute,
I am whole.
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