Press your pen against your temple,
poised above the pages,
hang your heart out with the Gods,
meadow larks, mountains, and seas.
Give birth to ruins existing inside
where the deepest and darkest hide.
Let the falls flood your fears
and foam the roman fountains
into the eyes of marble angels
across the turquoise ocean
beneath your golden palm.
Wipe grains of sand from
your vinho verde eyes.
Place your pen into the indigo and rest.