Spain

I went on a walk today

I wish I could’ve ran.

I thought about the world and said

“I don’t know how to begin.”

The world was quiet today

Except for the birds, they flew

A safe distance and watched me

On my way.

I miss the mountains and Spanish accents,

A day the soil felt like hot coals,

Chalk on my hands from the boulders

Foundation, the desert make up.

I don’t miss the people though.

Them I can do without.

They are dead to me, I say.

Tumbleweeds.

Journey to the beginning of inheritance

Maybe then I can find what I deserve.

Perhaps the enamored guitarists will kiss my hand

Mi amore, veneste para tras.

Brightly colored layered fabrics

ruffles feverish & tango like

as the black hair women

dance

Smiling and holding their cymbols.

Beauty up and full of culture.

They know who they are here,

I would smile uneasily, pronounce slowly

Their bud names and commit

To memory

You should’ve seen the castanets chirping, chest dipping

Where can I run to, did I forget where I

Come from? On my way

I think of Spain, my rolling tongue,

The slight pick up on mi vida.