Chimera

I knew a hollow man who had a wooden leg and we walked hand in hand all the way to Mexico. When we got to Mexico he bought me painted pots and told me homeland tales
and watched me dance La Raspa with a villager from Aguascalientes who would not tell us his name.
It was time to go home and our reverie did end
there was no movement or flow of quintessence
So I cast along in downtime expecting our fortune to turn.