I was told before moving to Los Angeles that it was repugnant beyond belief.
I was told I could never love it.
And, truth be told, I’ve found it to be just as unkempt as the Baltimore I grew up in… But how could I harbor such hate?
An old friend I was only just meeting, his familiarity with me soaked into his movements- his gifts.
His gray ash that coats my sidewalk, fresh destructive snow drifting in from the wildfires nearby; it bears more than a striking resemblance to the black soot that would cover my streets thousands of miles eastward.