Life and thoughts while living "undocumented" in America
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Let me think
You ask me about that country whose details escape me
I don't remember its geography, nothing of its history
And should I visit it in my memory, it would be as I would a past lover
after years, for a night, no longer restless with passion, with no fear of regret
I have reached that age when one visits the heart merely as a courtesy....