I look at the ivy clutching the brick and stone walls on the houses in Brooklyn Heights and think, this is how humans cling to hope. Even a heavy rain won't wash the clingy vines off, in fact the water will only serve to help it grow.

Why not you when I see the element of truth in your eyes Why not us be something more than lust Why not try even though we're terrified Why not climb and keep climbing until we're so high the jealous ones can't reach us Why not jump Then fall Then why not jump Again and again