Leticia

The turn of brighter days, scour my great freedom, towards the river’s estuary, the café’s and streets, awaken my sense of ease, solace would you believe, not a real home Journee’, shivers at my knees, but eyes love to stray, where all debts are released, beneath cool trees, drinks float over me, I adore my quiet navel, in the high cold seasons, whenever luck has its way, no matter the law decrees, the water still leads, to the open sea, sisters, other countries.