the past have shadows, shadows creeping slow and confident
a
parade in honor of all you've lost paradise, leaving behind
streamers, bottles and sawdust.
saves time over time, you
plays hide and seek, count to the end and you find
under the bed or stuffed in a closet as
huddled inside a whale.
bodies do not forgive, your guardian angel
has run away with your girlfriend, and you are one of those men
they know that heaven and hell are the others,
ghosts that follow you from all mirrors.
Your verses have the rhythm of music and you turn off
each poem with the butt of a memory. Lees
words dazzle you like flashes
and then you seem veiled negative future.
Everything is written with the same script. ___________________________________________
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