cold water

I am always so taken aback by the city, how we each day pass each other and still do not have a single idea of the people we surround ourselves with our. I sometimes meet someone's eyes, our eyes meet and I wonder what's your thoughts. Where are you going and what is your motivations? 
I walk in the city and it rains, and I long for the clean rains, and not the kind of rain that now trickles down my face. The rain is warm and the air is humid and I feel everything but clean, the last glass of wine from last night is still in my bloodstream and I regret and don't regret it at the same time. 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