And whenever I think of San Francisco
I will remember how I viewed it at arm's length--
Immersed into a place
whose illuminated city pervades the fog
whose ocean is so blue my eyes couldn't help but envy it
whose brightly colored quaint houses sit atop crooked hills
that eventually bring you to freezing beaches

I wonder why I rarely yearn to be back there
when I'm stuck in a town where beauty is only found
by admiring destruction and emptiness...
and then I realize that by knowing it was all temporary,
I was never really present.

You have to lie to yourself,
To pretend you are not just visiting.
That you are more than an out of place traveler
who will be gone in just a few hours.
Your skin will fuse with the land
and when you leave, it will hurt
but the places we go cannot touch us
unless we show them our skin.

You cannot be lucid in a dream
and get lost in the magic of the mind.
You cannot know love never lasts
and hold his hand like you mean it.
You cannot become a part of a place
if you do not let it become a part of you.