Chicano Poet

Friday, March 12, 2010

Jessica Cruz

Jessica up on the cross,
hammered for my sins.

Romans with smoldering eyes
hands of marvelous leather.

Swords squint into the sun
with higher orders I presume.

Jessica suffered on the cedar,
her spirit fidgeted,

the night crested and fell
yet dragged itself aloft.

Daylight brought forth
the watery sun.

The damage done,
I blend into the crowd.


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