City of lights,
Half phantasy, half historical molding,
Is where the degree of liberation is measured
In the number of dreams.
Here it is not easy
Running out of thrills.
Whirlwinds deliver sensations,
Espouse bodies,
Make hearts sweat.
It’s Saturday morning,
Smiles turned into butterflies overnight,
Hearts rummage in enigmas,
Cause we are young.
The air tastes of iron and espresso.
Taxis shimmer like restless fireflies.
Somewhere, a saxophone leans against the wind
and pours its ache into the river.
New York, New York,
You turn the invisible into something beautiful,
A city that’s always hopeful,
Where the degree of liberation is measured
In the number of dreams.
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My poetry book “Love poems: insights into the complicated mystery of love” is available on Amazon. You can get it here. Please write a review if you get around it. I would really appreciate it.
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