Barcelona 4am

a dark stairway
lost in something beautiful
four flights of cool marble under bare feet
feels sublime, heels in hand
can't see but I feel
giant doors and wood worn like velvet
invisible arias
sun-drenched day, blue water, orange umbrellas
a long walk with a familiar friend
my green dress, lunch on the beach
gelato … more than I could eat
vale vale
work and more work, the stuff that brings me here
too little sleep
a slip
exhaustion and a headache
cured by coffee
balconies and clotheslines and enchanting winding alleys
mom talks through the phone
while I sit listening on a bench
wishing she could see this
the market and grotesque tomatoes from Verona
cobblestones, Gaudi and gothic lanterns
art and longing
Plaza Catalunya, the Metro to Fontana
evening in Gracia
people scattered across many squares
fireworks and devils
cold beer at a table outside
late night of comedy
in Spanish, only catching every eighth word
laughter and connection
a clocktower
Catalonia and dictators
there are many ways to do something right
so do it your way
chance and Paul Auster
our crisis
you really should send that letter
smokey bar and the old cigarette machine
beer in plastic cups at closing time
then out to the streets for a late-night stroll
her tribe
taxi back to Barrio Gotica
steadying the beer still in my hand
phone in the other
as I leave a voicemail
for someone not there
great cathedral and black sky
others walking home
peace, quiet, fresh air
it's morning
I'm blanc
anything is possible