For whom, I can't remember yet

If you come to LA, I will show you
I will tell you what is otherness
If you come to LA, I will bestow
upon you
Love, Inclusion, and Freedom
from that stereotypical emptiness
That glaring sun,
which burns a hole in each poor victim's likeness
In the Valley,
thinking,
This is it
I'm here
What's next?
When you come to LA
I will lavish upon you
Kisses, Romance, and
Sex
The scent of the Sunset Strip--
All that I know of my existence,
Which is not yet suppressed.
I will give you
Sweet, Salty and Wet
I will give you the beach,
my beach
and the Boardwalk
And my time,
which is nothing much yet
When you arrive in Los Angeles,
all fresh and new and pink
and wet
I will give you my past loves,
and with you,
I will share my new flames
(I know you don't want them yet)
But when you come to LA,
My eyes won't shed a tear
because I am not that deep yet
No doubt, you will see me cry
And I will vet your love,
But as of yet,
I am alone
And the Santa Anas have
desiccated my tearducts.
And when you come to LA,
I will tell you everything,
but I am not there yet