The days this lifts we’ll flood the streets. Will you get naked, relish the air, lick the filth of Manhattan Ave? What a relief it will be, what a relief.
The day this lifts I’ll throw clothes in a bag – unthinking, blaze down 95 – unblinking, bang down the red diamond door and oh What a reunion it will be, what a reunion.
The day this lifts we’ll shake the proverbial champagne and spray. Will you take a sip for the occasion, get drunk on talk and warm bodies, fall asleep touching elbows? What a night we will have, what a night.
The day this lifts I’ll let him go. Or maybe I won’t. Either way, my heart will keep up the thaw and eventually What a Spring it will be, what a Spring.
The day this lifts will we be any different? Will you still seek deep comfort? Will I still conceal a dark heart? Will our minds be wiped clean like grime from windows in rain? What a test it will be. What a test it will have been. What a test.