Place, No Passport Needed

The house of my recurring dreams 
so real yet nowhere I’ve ever been
a place to put up my imaginary feet
each night a new set of contexts
relations to be worked out

in my lucid jetlagged state
I ask little of this curious place
a borrowed dream, someone else’s memory
Paris, not quite country, silhouette
on the edge of sunset

place to a peripatetic poet
a buffet of imagination and reality
buffet of the cosmos

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