The Silken Night Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

There is a woman
Up in the heaven’s tapestries.
Eyes the size of the moon,
And the stars lined up
Like the salt of her skin.
When the climates
Caressed the night,
This calamitous waltz
Seized the stars,
And siphon all the light.
Here, I embellish
All that is in this night
I run my hands through
The vast abyss,
The scent of the night
Splendid, sepulchral
A mad undulation
Of treason
And fidelity -
Here I am
Underneath the fulminating moon,
Both feet trampling upon
The prying, protrusile grass
Praying
Don’t let this night
End.