Making love for an hour
Feels indulgent
Barack is in the background
And no one is going shopping

But then on the bus
The golden evening sun
Keeps licking my face
And pressing its warmth against me

The angle of the setting sun
Exposes the hidden beauty
And flaws
Of my city.

Walking home
The cool fall breeze
Keeps running its fingers across me
The bright evening moon stares at me
The silver rings hug my fingers

The ivy plants breathe on me
The purest, sweetest exhalations
And I realize
I was made for love.