I am here.

I am a different woman when I am here. I fall in love. I were dresses from other parts of the word. Dresses with palates oozing color and bright dreams. I don't think about tomorrow, or the next minute. I live with the energy here. I am awake to the memoir of my life. My heart is at a different rhythm, that matches slow pulsing waves. G-d energy lives there.
In this city I come to gather my different selves. I play with the colors of this cybernetic city that wilts at the thought of the future. I guess that is what it means to be present.
I meet people here that don't think of the life with money, or creating a generic brand of living.
There are fountains here that spew in the middle of day light, children that notice the sky over the sidewalk, and plants that have more authority than paper.
I am not my mothers daughter here. I have no attachments in my life. I don't need to pray to feel connected. I don't have to eat, but I do because it brings me pleasure.
I am a different woman here. The woman my friends have never seen. A woman that's not questioned for having frail skin and a obtrusive figure. I am hidden within the color-scapes, within the broad day lights, and summer wind. There is too much beauty here, even for me. Feminine beauty is worshiped within the structures. You can tell, by how the glass forms over the rainbow lights, and soft stone fittings. And how nothing is aligned with rulers. It's just formed for human touch and feel ratio.
Everyone is soft and feminine here. You cannot live here and be destructive. It is not within the natural structure.
This is the only foreign town I can visit and not feel like I need to be looking for beauty. Just the mere fact of being here aligns me with it.
I am when I am here. I am here.

Montreal!

It is my fourth or fifth trip to Montreal. It is a beautiful city that always awaits me, like a lover from a foreign town. So careful, so calm, there is nothing I must do when I am here. I am just here and that is enough. I came this time to understand my relationship to it, can we be together for more than just a rendezvous? Would one want to live in their most favorite, beautiful city? To share a life with your wild lover? Aren't lovers meant for random meetings, entwined in the dream that in a moment it will all be over, and nothing will ever be quite the same. Would I taint such a romance?
Or should I leave moments of intrigue, question...
for my heart to constantly yearn for this place...
to come back to...
to come alive again,
when I am here,
and all heart melting dreams
wind into
one
tiny
moment
on a bed,
in a Hotel,
with foreign love affair,
"je ne peux pas de vous voir."
(i can't wait to see you)