Oblivion Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

May or may not,

Premature or too late,

The condition of the sea is kind,

And the turbulence in your eyes

Is beguiling, offensive and pernicious

I may or may have not

Yet forgotten about your scent,

Your bliss, your warmth and marring comfort

Yet, there is something

In between the blank minutes of 8 years

Or a lifetime, that I have taken

Blandly as if a stark yet quaint sky

Of mildew and licorice –

I conversed with a wise man,

And said that if there is something obscure that

Draws another closely, as if merging bodies

And slipping, colliding planets,

Then nobody can stop such inert immensity

And so in between his face and the city,

He told me another thing

That there is a place

In this world where I won’t feel anything,

See eyes like stars,

Hear voices like a siren’s wail,

And receive the beating of the night’s tail

And that place, will be bequeathed

Once I learn to forget you and for soul

Engraved upon my tomb,

Where I resurface, disengage,

Away from you – way away from you.