Sometimes,
when I have given away
all the love I could afford,
I close my eyes
to find myself standing
in the damp,
quiet streets
of New York City
when it’s midnight.

I wander in my favorite shoes
through the blocks that I know
and the ones that I don’t-
the ones that whisper to me,
telling me where they’ve been,
inviting me to see
where they’re going at this late hour.
I hold the hands of friendly pavement
and I comfort the flickering streetlights,
reminding them that
my darlings,
you have all the light inside of you
to brighten even the loneliest of nights.
I fill my lungs with humid air,
droplets of water clinging to my tongue.
I embrace the solemn benches in Central Park,
listening to whatever they have to say,
and forgiving them for what they can’t.
I gently pat the backs of buildings,
telling them
that each and every one of them is as important
as the tall one on a different block
they hear about ever so often.

And I tell the city, 
remember to take care of yourself,
because you are just as alive
and human
as the rest of us,
and you need love,
too.