Chicano Poet

Monday, April 27, 2009


I have no obvious right to your body,
no signatures stating otherwise,

no one yelling from a tower
or hillocks,

no trampled grass
to disclose such a path,

birds do not fly at my head
and sing,

yet, I would like to have that right,
sink my fingers into you

as if you were sugar
instead of this god-awful sand.


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