Grief And Co Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

I and I
Always mawkish about certain things –
A sapid breath,
A threading, lambasting pulse
Hair tousled into disarray
Smell of burning May,
Remnants of rumbled Autumn garages
And April noon-time delights.
Two protruding teeth like fanned blades of distraught.
No appetite in the morning bloom,
Slowly fading in an elbow room
That reeks of filth and putrefaction
Of dreams, of kisses, of scented sighs.
There is no one here
But grief,
Loss,
Rue and
Other things –
And so, I wrote
I love you,
But this should stop;
I am identified in the fringes of the moonlight,
Vociferous in my night wails,
But everyone seems deaf,
Immutable steps made in the sand,
Engraved in one’s skin,
Etched in one’s salient mind,
There’s no one here.
Only grief,
Loss,
Rue and
Other things.