I want to feel the slick streets of Broadway
dreams spilling across cement
tapping heels in ecstatic movement
jingling coins and
hidden smiles.
I want to taste the rush of the subway
smells of Caribbean dance
brown sweat and
sun-splayed juice
sticky knuckles, craving life.
I want to hear the voices soaring without an ocean in sight
in harmony with the sea.
Hidden in dark apartment rooms, with angry roommates
cursing words surround the headboard
banging plaster dust
I will pick up the crystal glass pieces
and dance, bare brown feet
hardly touching the floor.
in a rain dance ...
in Manhattan.
In return