Some days I wish I was this city,

almost always readyto take you inin any given moment, looking the other wayas children beg,scolding lovers and hiding others. Some days I wish I was this city,filthy, but almost always ready to be romanticized by those who don’t know metoo well. Some days I am this city,my chest crowded street intersections, with each breath,a stranger yelling,to make way,each one claiming he has the rightto pass,first.