my fingertips travel grounds untouched
Mountains known, thrashing through the skies
my eyes wander to the sights on every magazine
Little hideaways, masked within the archives

i strip the body in the mirror
Foreign attractions, morphing to native

my feet rooted over the dust
Crumbling statues, melting closer
my ears absorb the language of the wind
Ethnic songs, no one performing for me

i pare the mind healing me
Former homes, vanishing to nothingness

my palms press stained glass windows
Spiritual structures, exhaling grace
my hips wave through existentialism
Rejuvenating air, blanketing energy over me