I like Manhattan

I like Manhattan at dusk, when the sky takes on the palest hue of indigo and the city windows begin to glow.

I like Manhattan in the spring, when blooms of pink and white adorn the streets to the eternal wonder of passersby.

I like Manhattan in the rain, when umbrellas flood the streets as water does.

I like Manhattan in my sleep, when the neon-dreams of others swirl with mine.

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