city streets in the dark, in the cold.  rain in my shoe, on wrist, on my nose.  i trudge on, one foot in front of the other.  left, right, left, right, left, right. how do you make a city a home when relationships are so hard to form?

friends that come and go, men that wantwantwant something from me.  they want me to flirt, they want me to smile, they want to smell, caress, hold; let go.

an apartment that’s in a constant state of disruption, a bedroom quiet with a form of disuse. admitting things that feel good and then a pain that sinks in deep.  validation that confirms i’m not imaging things.  big confessions that turn out to be nothing but baby steps, and perhaps in the wrong direction.

a job that i like, a career on the right path. self-sufficiency but with a price.  a hole dug so deep but not one i can’t climb out of.  sacrifices to make, now and in the future.  bootstraps that are going to difficult to pull up.   tattoos to consider but it’s perception that i’m concerned about.  nakedness; physically, emotionally. a precipice.

a picture. a sunny summer day.  casual comfortability in a quiet, unexpected moment.  a hipbone, my hipbone, the skin that protects it.  a soft veneer of flesh. a scent i cannot smell but get compliments on.  the swift, gentle and unassuming stroke of his hand brushing my hair off my face.  i told them i was wearing my ‘sassy pants’.  i was.

snippets of reality.  the rise and fall of a breathing chest.  the feel of a torso against mine.  a longing that hangs in the air.  words that are unspoken.  desire powerful enough for strangers to see and comment on.  observations and secrets unsaid.  i know. i know.  i know, what you feel you need to tell me. i already know.

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