Elusive Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

I hate you, in the hours
That make love with the shadows –
I even hate your friends,
Your close companions –
They seem to appear like fiendish apparitions
For they remind me of how you laugh
In the presence of their joviality
While I stare at you – together with your huddled group
Of thieves as thick as blood – laughing as if
The whole world is yours alone
Where is my world?
It is in the palm of your hands, your hands of flailing thorns
In the time of your revelry, I grimace and scorn
Because it’s as if, watching the tides and how they are born
In the time of faint Summers and somersaulting tempests

Elusive – I am muted by a corner,
By a pavement, by a train station
While you tousle your hair in all directions,
I plummet in a cesspool of your dire projections
I indulge in a feast of preying fixations
I am fixated
For I always think about you,
And why you chortle, why you chuckle
In the time of our passing, my demise
I die, you repose –
How fair that is, I suppose
The Gods were asleep
When my lips were wide awake with prayers

I hate your visions
You will never freeze in a station – you are as humid
And feverish as the Sun
You will never smolder in the viscera – you are as icy
As an arctic
You will never be close – you are more than a few prayers away,
An aeroplane-short of the transatlantic
You will never be far away – for I hold you close to me,
Never to elude, to fleet like snow in your Summery presence
You will never be mine – for you refuse to be.