Somewhere between June & July

June 30, 2010

Paradise is a state of mind, but I dream of Colonia del Sacremento in Uruguay, the closest approximation of what it should be; a town accessible by ferry across the Rio de la Plata from Buenos Aires; sleepy but picturesque, cobblestone lined streets and white washed brick houses with cast iron railings, century old cedars dotting the landscape. On mopeds driving out of town the river is a shimmering ocean. I remember in passing my days the deeply azure skies were punctuated by the whitest of whites.

I own a small farm here, where I toil the earth with my bare hands in the garden growing luscious tomatoes and lines of sweet peas. My horses roam the fields, sometimes grazing, sometimes galloping. I fatten pigs & chickens for dinner. Somewhere, a stream meanders through the estate. 

It is here I wade for you

With the trepidation close to despair of never knowing when

You are the paradise inside of me

Unlocking years of not having known

That a thing like you

Who was never in my life

Who could only hold back tears

In an act of love

With knowing

That I am the paradise inside of you


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