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.