when you’re lying
on a bed in a cheap motel room
with a heart recessed
into the ceiling, and an enormous
mirror on the wall?
She is younger than you
but old enough to want
to be there.
You are old enough to know
that you should avoid
cheap motels.
Her weight on top of you
keeps you from floating away,
or running
or simply disappearing
into a less organized
collection of matter.
You tell yourself
this will be the last time
but it’s not the first time
you’ve had that thought.
Instead, your thoughts wander
to God
or Buddha or Allah or Krishna or…
and how you should be walking barefoot
on the path towards enlightenment.
But you have chosen
this narrow street, littered
with broken illusions.
Managua, Nicaragua
7 December 2012
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