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Aug 4
She loved onions
I would mix them
with the grass salad
I picked for her in the early spring
Then
Laying under a sky
So deep and so blue
It soothed the aching soul
It was too vast to have borders
She blanketed existence
Tierra and all
her servants
Under the kingdom of the gods
We were more sky
Than earth
Lifted above the dirt and din
Given purity sanctum entwined
We exposed our souls
To each other
And when I tasted her
She bled
The sacred taste of onions....
Prevost
Written by
Prevost  M/Costa Rica
(M/Costa Rica)   
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