I woke your hotel room up at midnight with gasps for breath
as I drowned in the rivers that flowed from my eyes.
I temporarily stained the white pillowcase that cradled my head
with the pain that spilled from my heart like an oil spill wrecking everything
around it.
I did not get to know you like I should have,
my feet on your cobblestones but my head in
California, not yet realizing that it would never love me.
My eyes wandered up to your clouds in a daydreaming trance
and yet you did not allow me to trip and scape my knee on your grounds that
cradle history,
but instead, you held me up with such a delicate touch that I did not feel you.
You greeted me like I belonged to you,
introducing me to your food and culture with such an ease that I forgot to
appreciate it.
You protected me from the dark side of a big city,
wind pushing me in the right direction to comforting bookstores and local pubs.
You held my hand when I could not even look you in your eyes.
How dare I fail to cherish you?
I cannot meet you for the first time again, but I can love you like I did.
If the rains fall from my eyes, it will be at your beauty
knowing you love me even though I do not deserve you.
You occupy more space in my conscience than I thought possible.
I am convinced I left a piece of my soul with you, and I will let you keep it.
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