it's two in the morning in manhattan, and i'm in a yellow cab flying me back to the bronx, and the worst thing about it is i'm in williams carlos williams' love song.
"the stain of love is upon the world! yellow, yellow, yellow, it eats into the leaves, smears with saffron the horned branches that lean heavily against a smooth purple sky! there is no light only a honey-thick stain that drips from leaf to leaf and limb to limb, spoiling the colors of the whole world."
you, drifting off towards the rosy fingered dawn of your sated dreams. i, blinded by the blinking, orange rage of my metered moments with you.
