I remember playing the same album every morning for an entire year. Blessed was I, to have an apartment mate who did not complain. Every morning “Dias de prosperidad” would blast from my room. That was a long time ago when I needed to heal. when I lived in the forest and I wasn’t strong enough to get out of bed, when music was my crutch and poetry my bread.

I began eating poetry yesterday. Separated each word from the other with thinly cut slices.
Hope              Do               Not                Leave    

Hope                 Be             With               Me

          Grace              Engulf                 Me
                              
                      Guidance    
              
Openness      ­                      I  welcome
                         You

I savored them each