American Love Story in Rome

I had a dream I left the other side
of myself in New York City,
I have to go back to get it
but I can’t move. I wonder
if I shut the windows, left flowers
to wilt, left food to decay, left my
heart on the Queensboro Bridge.
I feel my mind blow open.
I run to the Tiber, chasing chaos
the way a heart does after its broken,
seeing my favorite song sinking
the way the dying does for days.
I don’t know what it all means.
Maybe that’s how the world walks into us,
with worry. Or maybe that’s how it goes,
like a boat coming from the future
to take us away.