Inamorata Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

No matter how I gnaw
Past these walls,
And deny these allegations
That I have imposed upon myself

I will always remember
The pale inamorata
That sat beside me,
Asleep with lips ajar.

I drove past the pillars
With a bullet pace
As she wanted to
Eat French fries
I remember her obscurities
How she shakes
The salt off her
Fingertips
Like how one
Appraises the sand
Beside the sea -
The crumbs fall one
By one,
And she says
”What? ” in a gushing tone.

I know there’s something
In that question:
Like,
What is in this that
Drives you mad?
What is in the slow effervescence
Of this memory
That takes a semblance
Of your sanity?

I don’t know.
But over the loquacious people,
And the wastelands
The impressions
Of the inamorata
Will never go astray.