a. i would wade through oceans of dustbinned dreams
climb up mountains of flushed fantasies
just to help you have a second
of what you can never have.
b. you first rolled into my orbit
carrying a fist full of pesos
and a basket empty of gum,
you skated across those weary cobblestones
to the beat of an ancient hum.
c. i have never been to machu picchu
except through literature-
you would know
that reading countless pages of discovery narratives
does not translate into frequent flyer miles.
d. your gum-basket never became a burden
wading through peestink cantinas and flyshit markets.
i had wanted us to meet at macchu picchu,
hugged tight by mountains that can high-five the sun.
i wanted us to greet each other at noonday
stepping off the tourist train from cuzco,
your off-kilter bowler hat
and balanced smile
welcoming me to the real world.
f. i would crawl across deserts of hacked away hopes
squirm through jungles of amputated ambitions
just to help you have a second
of what you can never have.
