Chicano Poet

Friday, May 14, 2010

The Maker

Dreamed of making love to your broken glass
from my soul.

Pleasure like stones
on the lake bed.

Clouds rattle a kiss
awake lenghtwise.

Mexican pyramid in flight.
Its wires blossom.

Once the rubbish is pushed aside,
I can always love you.


At 10:34 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Loved the word play, flowed perfect...

At 12:15 AM, Blogger RC said...



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