I am from skyscrapers, wet streets, a sunset
the purple ghost over a glittering bay
The twenty-ninth floor
A foggy view
I am from the rain that falls and dances on windows
A sort of percussive music
That brings me to a blanket,
the rich black smell of over brewed coffee
and an onyx companion by my side.
I am in the streetlight glow
of a city to bright to reveal
the stars that dart in and out of vision
Depending on your avenue

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