those nights that we’d sit in the car
these dreams in my head
of new york in pinstripped trench coats
of manhattan with a cosmopolitan in hand
of new delhi with slippers and white linen suits
of beijing wearing mufflers on our ears and fruits on sticks
of australia riding the surf and having ice-cold beer
of mexico and food that makes your eyes water and hats too big
of krabi with bikinis and mojitos
of maldives and reefs and lounging
of westminister abbey with books in bags and oogling eyes
of paris and side walk cafes and mussel soups
but for now, wanderlust.
and vicarious decadant living.