Love Me

Because I think in metaphors.

Because I think of sex,

as a bus ride.

And waiting...

as well,

waiting,

while the other buses pass.

There is only one bus,

that will get me where I need to be.

But then, there are my feet:

In heels, always, and blistered,

yet, strong enough to carry me.

I catwalk down 23rd.

It's only 2:00 AM.

And my feet are strong enough to hold me up,

strong enough to hold me up.

I pass by hipsters en masse,

smoking outside bars.

idling by the one Seven-Eleven

on this side of the Hudson.

They laugh,

'cause this night is a giant inside joke.

I laugh,

'cause I don't get it.

But I'll pretend I do.

If only you were here to see me,

to behold my purple dress fly up

with the whims of the wind,

to see it flee my legs,

and to make a bad,

bad joke.

If only you were here,

we'd lock arms,

and, dirty pick up lines

would linger in the air between us.

If only I hadn't left without you.

If only the M23 had stayed on schedule.

If only time stopped ticking,

when my watch broke.

and,

no one could make their way,

until we commenced on ours.

It's 2:3o now.

No bus yet.

I am alone,

not waiting,

but walking.

The bus is a lost cause

even when it comes,

as, it always does,

eventually.

It is too early and too late.

I am a block ahead.

Then, a block behind,

still walking.

But love me,

Love me, anyway,

Because I never meant to walk alone.