An indigo veil is pulled
Back from the face
Of the city, revealing
Soft features on a pink
Canvas. My eyes hungrily
Climb the horizon searching
For a beauty undiscovered,
The treasure I imagine
In my dreams, I am benevolent
Cortes lost in self-imagined
Fantasies of an old world
Seen through new eyes.

My pearl knuckled hands
Wrap around the cast iron
Railing, the brisk wind pushes
Against my face as I lean
Slightly over the edge
Of the terrace. Two explorers
Beside each other, one of flesh
And mind, the other
Of stone and stature.

Wondering how such a destination
Was reached on the spurring
Of a nostalgic night,
My sleepless brain wanders
Through the recesses
Of my quasi-spiritual journey,
An epitaph of my ignorance
In a free verse of footsteps
Across this barren city,