Heart to heart, the layers peel 
in the warmth of words 
and the delirium of anticipation. 

I want to take you to Venice 
(or Prague, or the Alps). 
Or would you rather be saddled 
near me, riding small-town dreams? 

If I open the gates of history for you, 
would you be my Helen 
withstanding a siege of a thousand kisses? 

Or if I were your Anthony, 
would you sing my nation’s anthem 
in honor of great banqueters? 

Would you treat me to an old story 
over the course of a thousand nights, 
risking your flesh to add one more? 

Or could you sit by the majestic Thames 
and picture that I have given you 
the wonder of the Taj Mahal? 

Tell me how to keep your fire ablaze 
and where we soon shall go; 
I am sitting here eagerly awaiting take-off.