Acrost a narrow sea
In a Bazaar of salts and soaps
I see only purple, smell only lavender
In a world of scents and colors,
Through countless city streets
Strange and foreign from my own
I see architectural wonders
Every building, seems sketched by you
50 feet from where I sleep
5000 miles from home
As I shop for you In this Papeleria,
The speakers play our songs.
In a botanical garden
Far different from our preserve
I try to draw a flower, because
I saw one, pinkish-orange
It's hard to be in cities
It's hard to be outside
Not because of memories
Or because reminders hurt
But when you make the world
An inspiration, everywhere I go,
A million poems lodge inside me
Thousands more than you could know
I wish all my thoughts
Could break free and kiss the page
But I’m limited
May 13, 2025
May 13, 2025 at 1:09 AM UTC
Acrost a narrow sea
In a Bazaar of salts and soaps
I see only purple, smell only lavender
In a world of scents and colors,
Through countless city streets
Strange and foreign from my own
I see architectural wonders
Every building, seems sketched by you
50 feet from where I sleep
5000 miles from home
As I shop for you In this Papeleria,
The speakers play our songs.
In a botanical garden
Far different from our preserve
I try to draw a flower, because
I saw one, pinkish-orange
It's hard to be in cities
It's hard to be outside
Not because of memories
Or because reminders hurt
But when you make the world
An inspiration, everywhere I go,
A million poems lodge inside me
Thousands more than you could know
I wish all my thoughts
Could break free and kiss the page
But I’m limited
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