when I asked you where you were from you said seventy-ninth street and laughed, as if you had said london, or sydney, or something else much farther away. You, the man from seventy-ninth street, captivated this young heart, so intent on hiding itself from the world. talking to me about positive energy as if you weren’t the one coloring my world with spins and dips — dips! — and lifts. and I laughed, and we kept on dancing, song after song, and held each other close what do you dream about? moving here, anywhere. but it wasn’t love. it was more than love: the recognition of an old friend, the smell of dew on grass, the way the tide rises and falls.