i dream of new york city. but not only new york city. i dream of chicago, of san francisco, of madrid; i dream of any city big enough to hold me and the wildness i carry. i dream with a love greater than myself, a love big enough to wrap me in its arms, a love with grace to forgive my faults. i dream of the words 'you're beautiful' sang to me like a song, written in love letters, tangled in poetry. i dream of breakfast dates, of long walks, of sweet and salty lips together. i dream of finding myself of getting lost and the joy of being found again, i dream of the words i have yet to write, the stories i will tell, the days i don't know.