i hold cities like lovers // we all do // how we treat our cities, lovers, speaks more about us than we would know // we hold cities like lovers, but they don’t care // in bed their backs are turned toward us // i fight // loud fights that keep the neighbours up // emotionally violent fights that leave me broken // at night, i run monologues // i couldn’t understand why // maybe it was impersonal // used worn tired // giant likenesses of old whores // take on a familiarity // like the folds of flesh // like birthmarks, moles // inconsistencies imperfections // on the skin of the beloved // little things that comfort // i’m not special // neither are you // city heart beats // pulse rhythm comfort // blinking lights zap // train tracks rumble // street sweep five a.m. // something regular // you hold me in contempt // you could break me // we allow atrophy and decay, in ourselves and lovers // we take what we need and don’t take care of our needs // then we wonder why loss plagues us // it’s not fair // i don’t need you // you need me // your need for me affects me // shapes me // defines me // i worry sometimes // worry that i’m paranoid // worry that i read too deep into things // worried that i stumble stupidly // i’d be better off turning my back too // we hold cities like lovers // when we feel threatened // we don’t know when to let go, when to move on, when to leave // when to leave ourselves behind.