sometimes we wander for days
inside the ruins of myself
like an old ragtag band
the gardens where white boats still float upside down
in the clouds of your eyes
we dig for the last broken piece of your heart
in the magical town
in the beautiful mines
only to get lost and discover the ruby
was stolen in another century
by another indiana jones
I guess in the end I have learned to accept
to come back
with just only a handful of shards
and your smile
in my old ruined shack