Dear New York!

From the rare book room, two twisty flights up, dizzy from the altitude and the typography. Won't you be jealous!
—You can just go up, he says; pull out whatever you want.
—Just leave them out on the table when you're done. Don't worry about putting them away, he says.
—Stay up as long as you want, he says.
—Do you want to see the Diderots? They're right here, he says.
—Sure, you can take pictures, he says.
—Really? I say.
—Really, he says.