Hot. New York City. 4th of July.

New York City.

4th of July weekend.

92 degrees.

HOT AS HELL.

You know how the city is. Over crowded, overly busy, overtly in hustle mode.

But being around the ones you love makes you feel like it's just you and your goons taking over the city.

Nobody else counts. Nobody else matters.

Except...

Her.

Red bone. Big Titties.

I wanted to put "Long hair, thick red bone..."

But she's not thick and she doesn't have long hair.

She's plain. Ordinary.

The other woman.

She made her presence known in New York City without even being there in the flesh.

For that I must give her a round of applause.

Though she's not physically baaaad she's one baaad B.

She popped her red bone, big titty...self...right up in our relationship.

Conveniently escorted by your chivalrous gestures.

And they say chivalry is dead....

We argue about her in Brooklyn.

In Queens.

In Manhattan.

On the HOT and crowded Q transferring at Atlantic Avenue.

4th of July weekend.

The time where kissing under fireworks declared our relationship's independence.

"My Country Tis of Thee..."

Better yet my country the land of the broken...

Broken homes and dreams.

Broken pockets and regime.

Don't forget the broken hearted.

Cuz it's HOT in New York City.

Unbearable heat.

So hot my sweat collides with my tears.

I don't know where my sweat begins and my tears end.

But I do know I loved you.

You wiped my eyes in Brooklyn Heights.

Told me I was the only one for you.

New York. The Empire State.

A city you love or hate.

Dreams live there.

Dreams die there.

One HOT weekend...

4th of July, 2010