seven years too late
but i came anyway
to stare at your stone
beneath my feet
it was all
i knew to do
i primped your dead flowers
saw my reflection
on your polished slate
the shadow of a name
cold
scrolled
i never knew
this stranger before me
whose blood
fills my feet
wordless
faceless
more consistent in death
than ever in life
yes
yes i am here
to curse you
and thank you
for the void
and for this life
staring at your stone, mirando fijamente a su piedra
mi boreal interior collection
(c) j.alonso 2019
madrid, españa
Poems by j.alonso may not be reproduced, copied or distributed without the written consent of the author.