We disappear into the cave beneath the falls
Surrounded by the smell of urine
And graffiti I can’t read.
We avoid the hand railings
Along the stairs.
The landing has half an inch of water
The drain clogged
With cigarette butts and Starbucks.

I complain the whole way down
And then complain some more
Because we can’t go further down
Descending deeper into the falls’ belly.

It’s weird that I am on the other side of the falls
(The side with the big green lady)
When I remember being eleven
On a school trip
Surrounded by the fresh spray
And crisp air.

Where’s the dream? I want to ask,
Now that I am on the other side.
Perhaps it was inside those two towers,
The ones I saw in old photos from the 90s.
But if the dream really was in there
What would that leave for the people outside?

On the flight home to Texas
I press my nose against the window.
The tarnished green skyline
Is on fire with the sunset
And it is speaking to me,
Telling me of secrets,
Of the secret,
The best kept secret of Rome:

All roads never led there at all
And maybe the entrances
Were portals to deeper things.
A way out.