To Slivers, Distractions, Etcetera Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

I am enamored to you -
To slivers:
To distorted Novembers
And autumn-gorged months.
I am a moth of flight,
And you are an insidious lane.
I knew I hovered,
For when I landed,
I had my wings marred and dilapidated.

I am enamored to you -
To distractions:
In a cloying smoke of New Year’s Eve,
The disenchanting pyrotechnics burst
One by one, like stars plucked out
Of constellations to form galaxies.
To the blare of the buses,
And the machine-like hissing of the trains
As they take their toll on an acquiescent subway,
I know too well as much to derail,
That the dismay of the gears as they croon and whir
Are very much the taste of unrequited abstractness
And aesthetics.

I am enamored to you -
Etcetera, etcetera:
I love you
Like I always say in the breathing mist
That engages the room into a combustible
November summer and dream-coiling subtlety.
I love you
Like I always say,
I love you to slivers,
To distraction,
Etcetera, etcetera
And I say it always – mindlessly
Tenderly
Until the cadence of saying it,
The motions of lips
And the physiology of heartbeats
Are one and the same.