A journey not calculated by distance or time, but by memories -
Our story unfolding between those layers,
Like small puzzle fragments coloring a portrait,
Revealing their purpose -
Presenting its complicated story.

We are but silhouettes reflected upon the sand in the moonlight -
Dancing and howling at the moon,
Asking for the stars...
To keep,
To hold,
Just long enough for another one of those moments -
Even if it is the length of a breath,
I could find eternity in you.

Nicholas.

In the middle of my thoughts
You arrived in blaze and found
The remnant of my drunken, bleeding heart.

You were relentless
In pursuit of re-existence
From ashes and fragmented hopes

That exhausted afternoon
At scorching 4 o’clock
In the corner of the room

On the creases and the pillows
We shed our clothes
And re-assembled eternity.

it was suggested
that there be no nexus
between texas and your pal-
omino - tagging the alamo, **?

en el barrio, yo(u)-
and your gringa  homecoming
queen in tight-assed jeans
-running with ms-13?

-playing twister with your hipster
sisters misters smith & wesson
oiled up and and ready to go
- new mexico?

i found you in tres piedras
at a place called ortega's
eating huevos rancheros
- shooting jose cuervo?

-muthafucka mara salvatruchas
in a red camaro and two bruthas
on a burro with bow and arrows
-stole your palomino?

-they shoot horses
don't they?

riding the black el camino
-on the blue mesa.

r ~ 9/30/14

you see,
               there is a pillow
               in my living room
               that i no longer use
               because that time last
               novemberwhenwebroke
               up (the first time) you
               squeezed it so hard
               that it took  me  a
               week  to  get  it
               back in shape.