Wine Bottles and Brownstones

I went to Brooklyn tonight
and saw fire cast shadows of you
in the faces of every girl in Williamsberg
I saw the brownstones and wine bottles
you played with in your slow told, tongue rolled stories
thinking of foreign California
and the vegetarian foods you were
learning to cook there
you without wine bottles and brownstones
you with all that ocean layed out

I thought of that time
you rolled a car in Tennessee
and the quilt you wrapped yourself in
and all that stolen time

now who visits your brother in his orange jump suit
who does Roger fall asleep next to
who's drunken eyes listen in my dashboard glow

and the night you dangled out the car window
yelling in french to your mother

I went to Brooklyn tonight
and saw fire cast shadows of you