YOU
You are words without sound
that when spoken detonate
love
You are the calm that came
after the storm
but, stayed long enough to
rebuild
You were a thundercloud
while my breath held
lightening
You are my ink to paper
that births verbs into
metaphors
You oscillate wildly
in an aching Smiths song
You are the last record
store
who stays reluctantly open
at the edge of the world
You are a sweet euphoria
that when
remembered puts together
the perfect cast
You are my Paris
when Poteet is all I
needed
You are the flag which my
heart unfurls
ready to abhor any war or
score
You are a living poem
that breathes inside of me
You are a slow burning
ember
crackling a lifetime of
memory.
© Rafael Andrade Garza,
November 28, 2015.
No comments:
Post a Comment