You aren’t really asleep.
Not even at night
You’re just waiting for the sun to rise.
Your streets always welcome me home.
Late nights under streetlights
Farmers market on Saturday morning makes me smile
The magic I felt as a child seeing your tall buildings come into view through the trees.
Getting lost, first drinks, and tattoo stings.
These streets helped me become me.
So here is my thank you for the memories.