Metronome Mouth

And so you tap your chisled-tipped words on chalkboard like a metronome mouth piece. I time the words of betrayal. Right on time.

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Mornings with You

Collect my love puddles and recycle them back to me

Puddles from the sweat behind my knees, praying you and I will be.

Clutch the emerald rosary

between our fangs.

Pain lingers 

And that’s how it’s supposed to be.

Sink them deep, my crimson cabernet is yours to keep

Slackline on the silverlining to the highest star

Bring me back to my body

Only you,

The keeper of my puddles, my crimson, my heart.

-Words by Jasmine Duran and Luiz Castro

Narcissus

I saw you crying once. 

Outside of the bedroom late at night.
We had washed up after a party and dragged in the same old, bitter fight. 

Who was I to you? Why couldn’t you show?

So here we are:
You on the livingroom floor.
Me, peering through a crack in the bedroom I wished wasn’t ours. A hallway of mirrors fall between us and we cannot reach each other through our own reflection.
We would only see ourselves.

My Abstract Painting

There is a collector of art who has once said he is attracted to those paintings that he cannot understand. He would purchase a painting and hang it in his home or studio to look at it everyday, study the painting, and hopefully find its meaning. He searched for understanding; for answers.

You, my darling, are my abstract painting. A remarkable wash of rare mediums and marks and each day I must study you with care, with love, with patience. Until, I carry those virtues with me in all aspects of life and continue to love you with all the confusion and clutter. 

So I’ll watch you, I’ll touch you, I’ll get close, I’ll back away, I’ll rest, I’ll resist, I will be entertained and frustrated. But I will never forget why you’re here

And it doesn’t include my need to understand at all. 

Wild with Her Teeth

She was wild with her hair. Tangled, dry, and framed to perfection as the wind blew, rounding her wild face perfectly.

She was wild in her eyes. Narrowed to attack, wide when surprised. Emotions so deep yet sat on her pride.

She was wild with her teeth. The kind you watch eat because they are so fascinating. Chicken chewed down to the bone and a snap, suck, slurp, of the marrow.

Do You Want To Go On An Adventure?

“Do you want to go on an adventure?” 

This was the first message she had sent to him since exchanging numbers a week before. There wasn’t much to do in this small town, but drinking at the local watering hole was not going to be one of them. Not tonight. There was something different about this one. An outsider in every way. A man who walked into the room and everyone stared. A majestic man of six-foot-never-ending. A magnetic energy that she was drawn to in an unstoppable force.

She continued, “There’s a place, just beyond the freeway off Washington St. Once you pass the last signal light, keep driving. Follow the signs to the dirt parking lot and I’ll be waiting.” 

Under a frolicsome full moon she awaited her safe stranger and once he arrived, hours went by before she remembered time existed. They swapped stories and interests, heartbreaks and failures. 

Bewitched to balance a biography between an identity and an ego, their eyes glistened over and they kissed. At least once. Untimely and right. Instincts hunted a wild within them and won. Rightly so in the midst of a midnight desert. 

Enslaved in a summer’s end, the night shook sweat from the heat of the car. Daybreak cracked through the palms and an oasis of love could be seen by the land. “Love looms on our horizon. Look what we’ve created,” croaked the mountains.

As if he had heard the mountain, he awoke, took her hand and walked to the highest point of the land. She followed; watched as he said not one word, but poured unspoken admiration into the sunrise. 

Hooked on the fire red beams, he smiled, took a deep breath and a long sigh.

And she fell in love.

“Do you want to go on an adventure?” She said again with an illimitable grin.