a city of sharp edges
here: two photos from my last weeks in new york city — the financial district after sunset, in between sunshine and rain (which is to say, in a moment of rainbow) and while crossing 7th (?) ave in midtown, just after exiting penn station. I’m no longer there now, but I still carry the taste of new york under my tongue, like lozenges made out of concrete. and steel. if each city makes you into someone different, then what did new york city make me? a city of sharp edges - such that even raindrops could feel like needlepricks on the skin. here, more than anywhere else, is where you learn to put your birdheart inside a shelf, and wear your lionskin on the streets.
