“Where there is love, there is life.”   –Mahatma Gandhi

Ease in to this.

This may be defined as first cup of well-deserved coffee at start of day. 

This may be defined as pair of pants that used to be much looser, but sometimes bodies expand to let the right ones in, so let go of self-judgment of Rubenesque body because there is so much more of you to be swallowed now.

This may be defined as a newly acquired sexual position.

This may be defined as a tumbler of whiskey dripping down the sides.

This may be defined as a puddle.

This could possibly be a subway car full of 9-to-5’ers and you are just looking for enough space to spread your limbs, turn the pages of used Rimbaud book found at a stoop sale on the lower east side.

This could also be a love affair.

This could also be a morning.

This could be a conversation about veganism over atheism or atheism over hedonism or hedonism over McCarthyism.

This could be a stick of butter melting over a body.

This could be an announcement of lust.

This may just be a poem about what it means to forget you are a New Yorker and slow down. Turn flesh red like stop sign. Still yourself down until you exhale pauses.

Yeah. That is what this is.


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