The air is full here.
It presses, hums, and screams
with energy from thousands of souls.
Even silence fills the porch,
weighted and whole,
and a lingering potpourri of sweat,
exhaust, and asphalt
mixes with the trees and river.
I'm drawn to the mating call of the city;
a symphony of sirens,
a spellbinding serenade of crowds,
traffic, and life.
To belong, simply take a bath
in the yellow lights that wash the streets each night.
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