I love this woman wrapped in the guise of an urban landscape. How could she be any less lovely behind the thin veil of hazy heat which reflects the last of a dying sun filled day? How could she be anything other than female with all the mysteries and complexities that I traverse daily?
This place, my city, my woman. Through the deepening evening I gaze in awe, the impregnable spires and fortresses of industry glistening under a half full moon keeping watch over secrets I've yet to learn. She holds us here close to her breast as we yearn and strive and eek out life. A great queen mother patient with nurturing as we greedily suck the strength of her steel marrow.
The streets and alleyways; womb and birth canal in which I grow and am born. Births that are beautiful and horrifying as is always the case. Born to silently sit on my mother's shoulder watching my endless siblings throng. Seeking out in wonderment all this newfound life can teach.
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