dodging rainwater to keep socks dry, uniforms yellowed 

throughout semesters, the creases donning the years. the world, our 

world bigger than our beliefs, we have always been an annotated

 

culmination of all the things that came before and after us— but we make

our own ink, craft tenderness out of mothered mythologies

etymology as rich as blood             town of angels                we know

 

how to crawl out of the soft depth of the darkness, we have taken it

upon ourselves to meet the sunrise, roads lined with history & 

the buildings know us more than we know them.                    it’s a holy intensity—

 

navigating the vein of streets, we only need art, a beat & an alphabet to live.

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