Chicano Poet

Friday, January 31, 2014

The Wasted Box

I wasted my love on you
the strange beating box
left for dead
my purple sun
trapped in a can
made styrofoam noises nonetheless
and one lonesome ray
reached your  mean, mutant smile

oh how you  said you loved me
lifting the surface of the river
long enough for me to fall in love
with what was underneath


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