With Neruda, I fell in love with you.

It was so beautiful, I felt I had to close my eyes wide shut,

just to remember this was not a dream.

Then Hemingway came along, by then I was feeling a little lost in your eyes. Some days were good, some days were bad. Yet, I still held on.

But when I suddenly found myself with Bukowski on my nightstand.

Well, I knew then, baby, we were ******. He brought me back to reality, and I understood at that moment, that we were finally done.


*Sandoval