I Let Myself Fall







I know my life
will end the way
a storm ceases―
dissolved in your image
already water

I’ll return
to your sweetness―
sparkling wings
of doves spread more air
than the hurricanes

your face
lost in the crowd,
using my hand 
as its bed,
dictates my death

a throb under
the asphalt awaits ...
the stream of life
that shapes and destroys me
arrives at your shrine

crossing your garden,
pierced so many times
by the bougainvillea
I turn away life
forgetful of the tumble

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