by Maria Rios

I think I have mentioned that I will return this summer Those were your words.
I locked them away
in my struggle to find
what I'd buried in my silly metaphors
about time singing away its hunger over chocolate cake about your eyes, green jewels in the oceanic sky far like the the journeys absent from my own mute stare When you touched my sleeve and asked me
to tell you the truth,
for once.
I smiled a similie
I'll give you more details as they come.
Maybe we can see each other.... and I didn't tell the truth
but I stacked cliche after cliche
and placed them anywhere devoid
of what it once contained
like in dreams where you watched me sleep dreams of oblivious conversation between the beheld and the beholder and there were no sleeves to be found, only your voice
singing songs about Spanish soldiers
scratching rythmic lines for their lovers on their own skins
and I said
How strange
but I thought
How difficult it is to be original
Only time will tell ...
that a memory of you is both waste and want that it is twice the lie in a promise
that it is twice the lie in a poet's first verse wet with inspiration
when I will see you again
and chocolate cake
Love, Luis