Adobo Criollo Sergio Antonio Ortiz Rivera

Paradise For some, vaulted destinies are affections won against heavy odds.  Appreciation of their value requires proof words begin to take shape invisible particles leaving the odour of money. This becomes the weapon they fearlessly evade their fetters broken, their wounds written on rocks. For others, those who have long approached hostilities or faceless insincerities, money is the oasis that requires no explanation. However, balanced hearts never waste time in propositions of value.   Their abacus moves with caution so as to not awaken the snake sleeping between their sheets. 

Despoiled of Secrets We were close to the ground, near the door frame in case of an earthquake,  but you had to go ruin it.  I didn’t care about ripping out the plumbing, desperate as I was for the salt in water... You noticed the granulating yeast on my skin and brought over the divorce settlement and witnesses?  Sure, he’s blonde with baby blue eyes, interesting and interested, yet half my age. I wasn’t looking for a date but I bought a new red and blue umbrella.  Now, don’t touch me.

Four poems up at Sketchbook Review.   Please, stop-by and read. sergio