lunamaria-camaro

City of Feeling My city is one of feeling It thrives on the lightest of touches. The buildings cry out for a brief caress, A simple convergence or encounter. They long to be more then decoration To feel, to sense, to flourish. The most delicate of touches causes The buildings of metal and rock to ripple, Like fish rising to a ponds surface. The ripple spreads and dissipates. I am again reminded that I am alone. This sensual city of majesty and grandeur   Is my own desolate dominion. The streets proclaim there silence As I walk down the centre of the road Listening to the ancient bricks shift and moan. Their deep rumble