lima

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.

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|37|
a grey city for grey feelings.

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|38|
instead of finding the lavandería
we find pirated copies of “buscando a dory”
which implies we were only ever searching for her, anyway.

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

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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.

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|39|
i hope the next shot of pisco is stronger.

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|40|
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.

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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.

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|41|
i photograph cats in the park all day
grey, deflated.

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credit: romanesque arches by tomas transtromer

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