Depend on me,
longlimbed thinfingered apparition
built of yesterdays and f***ing lust stirred up
until you blur and stain and smolder
I don’t care if you’re my summer
or my summer in the snow
I don’t taste the sting of cherries
more than bitter rain or clover
When I sit on my best friend’s balcony
the people down below don’t know
that I’m watching out a hotel window
for tomorrow to come right along
And in my dictionary
of runaway lovers, bricks in hand,
hearts on sleeves,
wise beyond wise beyond wisdom,
in the Februaries of sunshine
and Aprils of dread,
As the years and minutes and the dear friends stack up
I see your cumulative being,
shining with the light of all your kindnesses,
and what I’ve learned-
-what have I learned?

I build cities all my life
and they’re all the same

they’re all the same.