Unvisited Lands

Fingers trace the jagged coast,

on a map where dreams are lost.

Words roll off the tongue like wine,

foreign syllables, jagged, fine.

Night pulls me past the border’s line,

a land untouched but wholly mine.

Mountains rising like whispered prayers,

streets unknown, thick with airs

that breathe stories I cannot name,

a distant city’s soft acclaim.

I’ve never touched this foreign sand,

yet it pulses inside my hand.