(Alvaro Arteaga)

The city has a glimpse of myth in it

it is like the sea. gritty city shores,

pigeons cry from high windows

as the tide grates fast across the floor.

The sea never sleeps, just breathes its truth onto the rocks. Inhale, exhale, slowly making space, taking space.

But the city is an ever growing tide, swallowing up a neverending beach.

And where the sea thrusts strength into your bones, the city coaxes it away.