Alexandria's Wall

In the middle of everything
(and despite everything), I turn around and put a hand to my forehead as a way to lessen the warm, hurtful beaming of the sun.

I look at the small part of the town that still shows from where I stand,

it is clear that the sandy dunes have blocked the beautiful view of Alexandria by now.

"Egypt remains the same, after all these years."

I manage to utter behind the turbant.

Somehow every aspect of a journey that was both warm and bitter manages to be a bit more unclean by the minute.

And more as I keep twisting around with the ideas,

nothing seemed new but everything seemed wonderful.

Egypt, you look clean, bright yellow.

But I myself,

(here, dressed in white and dirty with the sand on my clothes)

I'm NAIVE to not look beyond you.

To Washington, France, Quebec and the Great Wall,

And YOU again, go figure.

There must be a reason outside of this galaxy.

I'm in front of you, pouring the entire ocean in this tiny hole in the sand to find the answer.

Every word swum in my head, floating and bursting like a sea urchin, very big and full.

"How much until the next town?"

With you, Egypt,

the possibilities are not endless.

Your skyline is beyond infinite, yes.

But the moon is upstairs putting an eye on us.

There, drawing figures of ourselves: one in place, the other defeated.

As you can see, it is getting dark.

Further I walked, not knowing how much of a walk this was.

What lies ahead?

A big great mother of a son trying to twist every one of my hearts.

Much of a night, with a road ahead.

Egypt, I once thought you spoke in tongues, as if driven by the Holy Ghost.

It seems, these days, that

your heart belongs somewhere else.

As I'm moving towards the south I finally figured something out.