Ashes And Blood Poem by Liberatore Suffoletta

It’s been a year, or two,
since the passions arrived.
Together we wounded
the wood to death
building a fire in the garden,
illuminating everything,
like sunrise.

It’s been a year, or two,
since a voice said to us, stay
another said to us, it is spring,
Memories do not remember
when tears entered our words
and we learned to speak in sobs.

Ashes and blood. Two words.
One recognizes the fire, dying,
the other recognizes you
romping in my veins.