First View

For years now, I have owned myself and chose my lovers more for status than conversation. After you, all is impossible of even balancing out. Days pass, summer opens to the wish that I find you on my stoop at 6:30. Two suitcases and roses.

Please realize that in NYC, we have stoops. Up the stairs to your townhouse and the landing in front of the door or the very bottom stair in front of your house is called the stoop in my family, anyway.