The Tourist and Her Toy

the desert air
that blows across the land
is hot and full of sand
bringing no relief
to sultry streets

the passageways
emptied by siesta
echo to your running feet
rushing down the thousand steps
in and out of shade

the shade is dark, the shade is cold
you run away, while the town is sleeping,
continuing your seeking
leaving me behind
with no promises worth keeping

you thought you’d live your fantasy
you thought you’d find a wild romance
and these narrow streets held magic
i have seen your like before
you come and go like starlings

you only came to play with me
you will always be a tourist
you don’t belong anywhere
i cannot escape from here
your liberty is tragic

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