Weed Poem by Edilberto GonzalezTrejos

In my nomadism,
sometimes hedonist
and often stoical,
weed took over
my chest.
In the aridity of my soul
weed turned into
dry, sharp leaves
stabbing my heart,
wounded, I refused to succumb.
Your eyes, crystals
and your heart, the sun
have consumed my weed
my chest is burning, the fire
forges something new within:
A precious stone shines right
where there once was
a bleeding and undone muscle,
out of infinite pain
there comes forth a strange redemption.