Travel Destination

You are a man of the city, so meet

this country girl out where the headlights

of a hundred cars navigate the narrowest

two-way streets in the world and etch

their passage into the nightscape;

meet me where the evening breeze drags

its hands through the hollyhock and roses

in the park and stirs the water of the fountain

with its foot. Take me to your town’s hidden

sanctuaries; and I will meet you on my own

terms, where the city lights highlight

the lines of the avenue that is your sculpted

back; I will touch that part where your legs meet

at odd angles like the street corners where stores

sell small treasures and miracle cures

for sexual prowess;

where performers relieve

the monotony of days and I breathe life

into your night with my words or mouth;

 

this city will groan under the pressure of too

much transit in too little space, and I will moan

in your ear, insistently,

with the dismay of too little time

in so much feeling;

meet me where the neon of bars colors the silver

overflow of rainwater in thoroughfares, let’s

get wet in the streets and then wetter between

the sheets of a cheap hotel, let’s turn the night’s

secrets into a work of art and display it

on the walls of the story that only we know

the words to. Your back is the avenue

my fingers walk like an old acquaintance,

your legs are the invitation I have needed

to make sense of time.

 

I have stayed in mansions and lived

in relative luxury; I would rather sleep in the

streets and avenues with you than in a house

with climate control and a king-size bed

where I spend sleepless nights alone.

Take me into your arms

and I will teach you how

I can be your richest travel destination.

Author's Note

written as a creative writing homework assignment for our poetry club "Casa los Altos;" meditation on the prompt "avenues." Translated from my original in Spanish.

artwork is my own, created to accompany this work