fresh out of the plane,

weary eyed and sickly pale, 

I trudge.

deep within my suitcase, I carry a passport I don't want to show to anyone, 

even if they ask for ID. 

every time you look at me

with your soft eyes, 

tan skin, 

and a nose you used to hate, 

I mourn the loss of the love I once held for you. 

in all its glory, the new world stood before them. 

a wide expanse of green stretching out beneath their feet, 

leading sailors towards an unknown future.