Flowing with colour,
Dripping with life,
Waiting for hours,
Awake all the night.

Struggling to find,
A single right word,
Always an ear,
To say what they heard.

Looking for home,
In every last place,
Finding some life,
In every face.

Near to the water,
The edge of a dream,
Holding some agua
Nothing is clean.

Wanting to hold,
The meaning of life,
All I can hold,
Is something alike.

Watching my thougts,
Disappear in the dusk,
As if my shell were
Some coconut husk.

Licking my mouth,
To take back some liquid,
Drawing away from
What seems insipid.

Weakening with night fall,
As days lean to close,
Settling the day,
With evenings hose.

Finding some aspect of
Commerce of the west,
Pulling down prices,
Through the role of a guest.

Failing to find,
What it means to be here,
Watching myself,
Feel far and near.

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