Geri

I am dark dark. 
Ebony. 
Melanin. 
Not sun-kissed but 
scorched. 
Not moonlight but 
midnight. 

The city has always held me in its arms.

Softly, like a mother does to a child.

At the edge of daylight,

I gaze out over a balcony

and call each structure by name.

My eyes track its movements,

The roof turned into the sky. 

 

My hat loved the wind dearly. 

My hat was infatuated with wind.