A tale of my two cities

a woman with two lovers
trying to get the most out of life
have her cake
and eat it, too

Amsterdam
your wind knocks the breath outta me
brings me to tears
this cleansing allows me to be myself
to find myself
the purest version of who I am
in the silence of whistling wind
I am most purely me
most purely a woman grown

New York
the cradle of my youth
the bosom of my mother
you embrace me as only a mother could
a father could
I am myself
but part of a whole
A daughter, a sister, a niece, a cousin, an aunt
I give each piece of myself away
without second thought