My City
I live life.
I hold my city’s hand,
embracing her imperfect culture
like she is the only one for me.
I kiss the scars
of the fractured streets on her body,
admiration creates traffic.
Her night sky hair
falls on the hills
of her shoulders,
She smiles,
her skyline shows,
buildings like teeth.
Her lower lip
an ocean swell,
her upper lip
an ocean wave.
I spend my summers
caught in her kisses,
at peace on the tongue
of her shore,
watching the sunset
and her lunar artistic community rise
and draw her lips up
into a grin.
I live my life
with my city.