This city knew me before I knew it.

Blew through it
Now she holds me in her grasp, tightly, lightly
And the wind is settling my hair amongst my shoulders as I stride,
I glide

Indeed, to her I was only one,
White knuckles and clenched teeth
Chipping against the wet pleasure of my tongue

I pass through momentarily only for her to mould me
She knows I am something malleable
She knows and this power belongs only to her

I have become part of the concrete
Street, the beat, the sheets
That hang silently in silent gardens where silent women
Watch me pass by
As if they know, they see, seen her
Do this before.

This city knew me before I knew it.

More from Tilda Lambert
Trending Posts
Ari Aster's Families On The Fritz
Rug-pulls, Rampant Fraud and the NFT Wasteland
The Rise of Analog Horror
The Many Lives Of Kanye West Pt. 2
Featured Music
Playing Next
Explore Music