To those who don’t know it, its name
evokes images of debauchery
illuminated in red and fed
by a cocktail of plants
and chemicals
designed
to destroy.

Whose fate, however
has led them here –
they are privileged
for having felt
the wonder
evoked
simply
by knowing
the embrace
of canals ringed
by brick lanes lined
by walls and windows
old enough to know
the impermanence
of our being
here.

Transience
is understanding that
our tot straks
will soon become
tot ziens –
our see-you-laters
transforming,
finally, into
“farewell” –
and accepting
that Home,
however temporal,
exists singularly,
incidentally,
because for fragments
of revolutions around a star,
servings of sunshine and souls
were shared
by kindred spirits
brought together
in one city’s embrace.

What are we to do, then,
but be thankful,
marvel, and rejoice
that such wonder
should exist;
could ever have existed
at all.

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