Placed on a wall above troves of books and boxes,

A map.

Pushpins dotting its colored face,

On the lips of Beijing, the nose of Amsterdam,

The ears of Cairo, and the cheeks of Athens;

This spirited sheet takes shape in my hands:

A map of possibility,

A map of choice.

Some time, somewhere

I’ll look at that map, peel it off the wall, and swallow it whole,

Lips, nose and all.

Until such time, I wait and I watch;

Eyes wide, eyes open, eyes green.