New York City is a dangerous town. Without notice, it buries pieces of itself down deep inside of you only to manifest in the middle of a sleepless night. When the floorboards creak and whine begging your roots to linger at home, the distant car alarm wakes up New York. She arises in the middle of conversations about flowers, when you recall the gardens of the Park. She tempts you in the daytime. She stirs with the sound of stiletto heels hitting marble floors and takes you back to Grand Central. She allures you on a free Saturday. She calls to you on a Friday night. 

Without permission, she takes your dreams and illuminates them under the city lights. New York is feisty beast with specks of charm and servings of anticipation.

This dreamcatcher of a town circles above my head at night and hangs from my rearview mirror in the day.

And I want to go back. I want to go back. I want to go back.

Dangerous.

(image via zaininsane)