Trapped between the door
and something to say,
he waited
for the sound of a hand’s skin.
One more rejection from a woman,
the same ole God plan.

I confess, I have been broken
from an inconvenient time,
trying to capture ghosts
line by line.
Poetry locks the beating
and denying,
how this
and that will never be enough.
Love was on the other hand
of a mom and dad fight;
packing bags
and hanging up phones,
they all made me feel
like we couldn’t do this alone.

Wings winded home by sin;
God said blood would be poured,
and water won’t cure the thirst;
I couldn’t put myself first.

Gasoline in the house
and flames in the heart;
Given and taken, losing
and holding by the finger tips,
like piano strings for veins,
those colors slowly
washed out the music in my eyes.
Angels gave me this, writing
to get you home by sin,
and love trapped in water
where the river channels begin.

 
 
© 2013 by Mario Gabriel Adame from the book After You, In Love Arrest