Mirage.

where are you?

Are you here yet?

No. But I will be soon.

Then, where are you?

I am there, with you.

No. But you will be soon.

Can't you hear me?

No. But I will soon.

I'm in your traffic,

In the wet paint,

In the rushing crowd.

I only hear the push and shove.

But, you hear my heartbeat as well.

Do I?

Yes, you do darling.

No. But I will soon.

Don't you hear your own breathing,

The rhythm of your panting,

The soles weathering on the stair case.

Yes, I do.

But are you my fatigued riddled city?

Are you my routine?

How I wait at the subway,

Let the empty trains pass

And find myself beside the woman

And her three truant kids.

Hoping their noise and

Their raucous presence

Would silence my own mind.

Why does it have to find its way

Back to you?

Can't I have it for myself?

Do you have to have me this way?

In my entirety?

No. But, I will soon.

Why aren't you here yet?

Are you getting restless?

No. But, I will soon.

Its 4.02 a m. and I can't sleep,

Why?

I want you in my arms,

I want to kiss you

With my eyes, through my eyes.

You will, soon.

How is the new city?

I love the country, more.

I thought you would love the lights.

I do, but the stars in country dawn,

They remind me of your skin.

And, I can touch the sky.

I can breathe it in.

I can claim, mine.

You're mine.

You are, mine?

No. But, I will be soon.