the last day

a small

cheap café

in some lesser

known residential

neighborhood

of Lisbon

my stomach

rumbling

my heart

churning

everything is

different

I thought

everything would

be the same

somehow

but I suppose

change is required

so I drink

three espressos

and begin

my last full day

within the confines

of Portugal

I am

alone

my woman

is at home

waiting

my family

is torn apart

by their differences

and indifferences

I am

torn apart

by my need

to feel whole

within the whole

I simply cannot

fix

what I cannot

fix

some hearts

are meant to remain

ragged

and so I float

onward

down cobblestone

streets of old

wondering

at my steadfast desire

to simply feel alive

knowing surely

that these babies

will keep crying

these men

will keep smoking

these stores

will keep selling

and these dreams

of billions

will always be

dreamt

will always be

dreamt

will always be

dreamt

and on my way

back to my room

I stumble

upon a random

sidewalk book sale

near a patch

of purple flowers

I would

read them all

if I could

read Portuguese

but I can barely 

read my own mind

any more

I just fall 
forward.

10/16/2019  AAW