Chicano Poet

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Stone Idol

The fear of God in you,
you hesitate to tell me it’s ok.

The sun is not in her place.
Moonrise struggles somewhere else.

Each wrong made right.
So, it’s possible.

Love like ours
unknown like the mound builders.

And where did the Mayans
vanish to with their desires?

It is all I can do
to make it through the calendar’s end without you.

I tell you sex is the same thing as love,
and only love objects.


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