Empire State Building

When we reached the 86th floor
our minds and legs still raced
keen and contentious
with the New York pace.

I rested my head outdoors against the cold metal bars,
and saw the lights of buildings we forged our path around,
saw headlights of the taxis we dodged
when they seemed yellow and menacing—
and suddenly all were dwarfed by our height
to trivial dusts of brightness,
far-off stars beneath the haze of our breath.

Silence pervaded in a fog of stillness:
Nobody spoke.
It was just us, risen above the plane
where lie our trials and our treasures,
a thin sprinkling of ash soon to be whisked away and made anew.

I warmed your cold hands in mine
and watched your dark eyes,
freed for once from the size of the ground