I am always so taken aback by the city, how we each day pass each other, we look away, we let our sight slide. I sometimes meet someone's eyes, our eyes meet and I wonder "What are your thoughts. Where are you going and why?"
I walk in the city and it rains, and I long for the clean rain and not the kind that now trickles down my face. The rain is warm and the air is humid and I feel everything, but clean. The wine from last night is still in my bloodstream and I have regrets, but I don't have regrets. I often tell myself I have to live a little, and I guess that is what I'm doing, prodding the streets of Brooklyn and living a little.
The city is an adventure, a manmade wilderness and with my body on the line I walk in the darkness, I don't hail a cab as long as I can walk. I get the catcalls so often I don even hear them, according to many men I'm "snowflake". And maybe I'm a snowflake, I just want to melt away, become a part of the rain and just disappear down the East River, flow past the Staue of Liberty and I wonder if she ever misses her homeland. If I was a snowflake I would not want to fall in the city, I'd fall on a glacier and be forever frozen in time, with a timeless memory until I'd break of into the ocean
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