The goldenrod now half exploded, on the edge
flowers cut across the path leading to the bracken woods
from the long grass, three young deer emerge
from the mist, into the forest they disappear
to shelter under fir and cedar boughs
just days old, they rest on mossy loam
I trace their perfect footprints
I want to follow them home.

I had a dream of you
But somehow it was mixed with reality
You hated me because you loved me still
And yet you found someone to replace me

I was envious of her, jealous that you chose her
Even though I had someone else too
She was the woman, married to Hector
Whose sister you slept with when I loved you

We exchanged our daughter in a parking lot
You made no effort to hide her
Foreign emotions overwhelmed me
Settled resentment returned

Her name I always remember from high school
She is Blanca, still technically Mrs. Blanca Garcia
Somehow you both resemble the devil
To remind me of your affair with Hector's sister, Ophelia

¡Diablo vete!
You're a past memory, long forgotten
You come in the night, inconspicuously
Finding any light left to darken.