There’s a city I see in my dreams
Built of contrasts and mixtures
Of thoughts and concrete

Tourists and locals
Midst markets and malls,
Volkswagen vans and horse-drawn carts,
Venders sell jackets by
Cathedrals so tall they’re lit with
Torches fueled by ancient past
Ignited by sparks of modern risks.

I see life and geometry,
Architecture, and tone,
Poor and rich,
New and old,
And bright and shaded,
Exhaust heat, stone cold.
I see tiled floors
And sculptures of clay
Or stone
Or wood
Or intentions of love.

Sidewalks run past
Arches frozen for centuries
Of devotion, and cars
Parked at monuments tall
Empty halls lined with art
House the souls of the curse
Smoking and weeping, laughing,
Tearing
And wondering at glass cases ‘round ruins.

And up in the sky I see airplanes and birds
And kites and wishes made on long-dead stars.

If you wonder how I see this
It’s because you’ll never know
So trust me when I tell you
I’m the only source.
Just trust me when I tell you of
Swirling colors and geometry,
Souls and stones and a bit of a blood;
They are the mesh that holds this city
That binds this city
Of contrasts and wond’rings and ancient old art.