Women are the city -
the brilliant shine of towers (their eyes)
the fragrant hidden gardens and alleys (their thighs).

Women are the city -
to be wandered, drunk on mystery
their heads bent together, smiling.

We are the city, she whispers
we bend in close like houses, conspiring -
to conquer the world and the subdivisions
the newspaper stands, the meters and bus routes -
the galleries of night, the wine-soaked courtyards -
the unexplored backroads
that live between our lips.

Log in or registerto write something here or to contact authors.