On a Warm Night...

...coming over the 59th St. bridge with your hand out the window you can see your arm long and slim flicker flicker in the ambient light of the city. All of Manhattan guttering behind you, and all of Queens splayed out in front of you with her myriad limbs a pulsing and glowing. The bones in your wrist seem to curve to the contours of the river, slick and tender.