You throw your suitcase three flights of stairs below.
And slam shut the apartment door.
Wanting to visit the world you saw only in postcards.
You yell that your sick of the same yellow taxicabs, the red buses, the same smiles on their faces.
You can't stand the same old punk rock melodies on the stereo every night. You're probably tired of me practicing my piano chords every minute. Sorry darling.
Give me five seconds to lace up my cobalt sneakers, and I'll wait at the gates with you too. Take me along, take me away.
I want to dance with you on the pavements, spray paint your dreams on concrete ruins and fly over asphalt with you by my side.
I want to scale the skyscrapers: you in your scarlet stilettos, me in my cobalt sneakers, and float on cotton candy clouds.
When we arrive, may I kiss you on the moon?