Yearn Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

And they think they were invincible.
When they were only specks of light
Among the marred stars.
And they think they were unfathomable,
When they were only bland riddles
From the tongues of children.

Pass me the phone, darling
I yearn for a conversation
About flies,
Stars,
Slithering snakes,
Cantankerous misfortunes,
Threading pulses,
Heaving breaths,
Any kind would do.

Perhaps, pass yourself unto me.
I yearn for a conversation
Of two souls
Waiting to ignite,
Until the fire dies - no, only weans.
Weaning as if waiting
To be ignited again.