Why I Can't Help But Love Baltimore
In Baltimore, I feel the lingering sensations of something old, something known, and unknown.
Sometimes, a burdened awareness rises and signals to my pores, a tingling, a recognition of the unsettled trespassing of souls, skittering, like a shredder over skin, skimming, and then crumbling, layer upon layer, sifting and evaporating, mourning memories lightening bright.
