Where, Love? Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

Where in the moon,
Or the petulant Sun does hope lurch
Like a lost yet wily kid, in the sunflower-bloom
And the prying daffodils where conceit
Shall be found amid the frivolity
Of shadows burning in the searing rain?
Dear love, where have you gone
From headless to soulless
You are dismal, in the flagrant shroud
That simmers in the palette
Of trees in the mirage near a sleeping pavement

Where in the road,
Of forked lightning that changes
Arbitrarily, where love?
Shall I find you? Lest shall I drink
When you are no’er to be seen
Aghast in this cold town, where the doors
Open but not close, allowing wind
The brazen, piercing wind to wake me up
In the middle of my slumber, where love,
Shall I find repose?
In the subsistent clemency of your breath
Or in the frigid calloused chambers of your heart?

Yet, this night, nor the road
And the two feet hesitant to set its coarse skin
Upon the leonine grass of sultry enmity,
I need you now, but at the latter
I shall throw you away, like ash
Like memories, like leaves
The dead foliage
Into oblivion, or into the subconscious
Or within my sleeve – That is my choice
That I am terrified to take,
For the troubled waters of loving you,
Will drown me, never shall I find life
In another November day

Kiss another man, and fine dine with him,
And then, ergo my deeds have proved
Fickle and enfeebled, the prolonged postponement
Of the effervescent dreams that lost its vim
In the candlelight and dead chandelier,
I shall find that in your revelry,
I am alone, I am deaf, I am sleeping like a child
And a child – the sleeper that he is –
Will be an eternal dreamer
For in the fragments of my dream,
Sometimes I touch your face, I consume your grin
I memorize your perfectly sculpted chin
But I know in the dream, or in realism
You never fathomed any of me –
But then purely acquainted
With my pallid soul, that is
Now where love, where are you?
You are nowhere to be found.