I am from the mistakes made in my building’s floor tiling,

The roofs I was never allowed up on.

The roof I went on without asking anyone’s permission.

I am from the sun reflected on the Hudson,

From the moon, towering over the highest buildings,

From that and a billion other celestial bodies in the Hayden Planetarium.

I am from doctors in nondescript buildings in midtown and the upper east side,

From pizza, hotdogs, and the hipster concoction of the month.

I’m from the sex toy shops I passed on the way to elementary school.

I am from the giant painting of Biggie Smalls’ head on 5pointz.

Biggie died in 2013, when it was destroyed by the real vandals.

I’m from the plants growing in the cracks of the sidewalk,

From the palm trees growing in the world financial center.

I’m from a specific sidewalk.

I don’t remember where it was, but I know exactly what it looks like.