I took you for granted,
my city full of mountains I couldn't understand,
and streets, and water and lives.
Beauty takes time to settle in
too eager when it's young, too
self conscious.
I moved miles and years to find home,
a cold basement in the ghetto,
a loveless traveling
from rural to urban to southern
to wherever we go next.
A dream. A cycle. A barrier between
me and you, Seattle.
A nightmare, waiting.
A love I cannot have, and yet
there is no love without leaving,
and regret.
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