Chicano Poet

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Footprints Of An Old Love

She walks inside my head,
leaves her sandy footprints there.

All along the shore
old kisses dry.

She dangles sweet moons
in a corner.

Night is a dark book
only she can treat.

Alphabet pulled out to sea
by her hips.

I am a speechless color
in her eyes.

The wild wind cupping sand
in its other hand.


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