lima, peru

tourists have crowded into the half-dark of the enormous romanesque church.
vault opening behind vault and no perspective.
a few candle flames flickered.


a grey city for grey feelings.

lima-9 lima-9

instead of finding the lavandería
we find pirated copies of “buscando a dory”
which implies we were only ever searching for her, anyway.


an angel whose face i couldn’t see embraced me
and his whisper went all through my body:


don’t be ashamed to be a human being—be proud!
inside you one vault after another opens endlessly.
you’ll never be complete, and that’s as it should be.


i hope the next shot of pisco is stronger.


you and i feel the
strangest together in months,
stirring in the middle of the night
rolling over with a sigh

crying, is this what it becomes
after all of it, eventually?

realizing we are children in a sandbox in a hurricane,
sharing toys –
a two-person support group that heals
with pizza and dwayne johnson blockbusters.


tears blinded me
as we were herded out into the fiercely sunlit piazza,
together with mr and mrs jones, herr tanaka and signora sabatini –

within each of them vault after vault opened endlessly.


i photograph cats in the park all day
grey, deflated.


credit: romanesque arches by tomas transtromer

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