She was like a city to me.
Dynamic and moving.
You could build your life, or lives, within her.
You could experience the grit and neon lights of her downtown
and then flip over to the cozy comfort of her suburban couch.
Be battered on her streets.
Then explore the gems of her untouched neighbourhoods.
Fall into her basements
or see a whole new world from her rooftops.
Ally cat.

Sometimes she would mug me.
Daylight robbery.
But you take the risks of the city with their rewards.
‘Coz in a moment she would sneer,
then smile, and it was always beautiful.

She was an intoxicating urbanscape.
People moved through her and left pieces of them in her: broken hearts, tired legs, and of course, dreams and dreams.
Furniture.

Like a city with whom a love affair is inevitable,
she quaked occasionally to show you the real beyond the veneer, behind those sheer cliff scrapers.
It’s what keeps me coming back.

God.
She was magical.
But.
She.
Could.
Eat.
You.
Alive.
And not even know she had done it.