A poem for Ben, Erin, Tina, and The Bunny

I am in Virginia on
a balcony and I am
at one of those times
in my life when all I
can think of is you.

The outline of the
city over the water
looks like the view
of New York from the
NJ Turnpike
when I would drive north
to see you.

The only sound I hear
is the traffic from
the main highway below and
I know you know where I am,
the occasional breeze, your skin
and a sign at a mini storage
facility across the street
calls itself 'The Safe Place'

and it reminds me of you and I
look up at the moon which
also reminds me of you,
so I look directly down
18 stories at a plate glass
roof
immediatly tempted to jump
for a quick rush.
And I think to myself its not
18 stories its only 17
due to superstition

and thats all the comfort
I'll ever need.
When I think of
safeplaces and highways
that remind me of you
jumping in rivers
and outlines of the moon.