Colombian

Desert flowers left carelessly
Sprawled; meanwhile I’m getting too damn old
In between the steps I couldn’t stand to take
Waiting for you I held my breath however desperately
How simply beautiful pure joy can be
When you can’t feel a damn thing

Spiraling out to new avenues in old lanes
You’re looking into settling
While I’m traveling Open space
A sky voyage the Dead Sea readily takes

Make no mistake we are just touring
Visitors here upon our own rewritten worlds
“Please ignore the loose flooring”
And I’m not learning;
Much of anything

From strangers scattered across a span of two broken wings
Such lonely things
How they ache to possess
An inner spectrum to supreme planes above
All our better plans,
How they fit like an old unfit, ragged glove
Cheap talks to kill time and build trust
On Sunday walks to get the paper and stuff

And it’s not really all that tough
Out here; miles away facing all of my fears
Newly in touch and out of the clear
Colombian coffee with a fresh outlook on last year
Mind you, “I can’t seem to get away from here”
Unknowingly spared,
With a dim light dawning
In an age so sincere
A projection of the stars
Within the eyes of the Seer
“Whatever’s convenient for her”

Take nothing less, in a Sunday notation
And I’m well underdressed
With patience risen to the end of next season
Passionate to the cause for lack of better reasoning
Better yet, to appease them

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