Distorted Sea Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

Look at the Sun crumpled in the heavens,
And the moon so white it has receded with the clouds
I looked at photographs and photo albums
And sailed away over the troubled seas of her skin,
The restive, uncanny bridges of her protruding teeth
And there I declared to the supple trees that bend
With the sudden shove of the wind, “This is drudgery.”
I looked at my hands, coarse, with subtle hints of
Yesterday’s tedious delirium, a macabre hysteria and thought
Bewildered as if ensnared by an ornate forests
Where the trees stood like men of blurred faces
And distorted voices, “Where am I? ”
As I wander off far into the silence
Of your memoirs, your fading touch,
Your slightly parted lips and two, partitioned teeth,
I realize more and more that to stray far enough
Is to drive myself near pits of endless cascades,
And so, I bid farewell only to the longing,
And not to the enamoring captivity
Farewell – but not to forget,
Only to mend, to fix, to convalesce
And then, circumnavigate your tempestuous seas once more.