unapproachable

my pixels embellished for free

with Peruvian ornamentation

in hindsight gives me the willies.

Not because of the steaming coffee cup

or the llama or the menacing toothy

grin or piranha swarming.

It's not the stone wall terracing,

not the blood soaked steps

of looming temples.

Jaguars, verdant canyon rapids,

the ponchos, cushma

and petticoats.

Perhaps the endless chain

of mountains or the volcanoes

that whisper to the clouds,

but no, it is the color

of the countryside,

of the flora and the fauna

and the people and their dress.

It is faces,

in the smiles.

It is mine to see, to touch

to behold, but to have it

is to walk on the moon

and is chilling and

not advised for any

beyond those dwelling

in the areas between--a

subcutanian mist driven

abode inneroutside the realm

of fear or elation.

Beware the graft and

Machu Picchu receptor

plug downloads, cilia

enhancements, as the

rampant dendrite

despoiler shall

encumber

and will

shut

you

up

.