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July 22, 2024

F**k You for Dying

By Rocio Iglesias

Fuck You for Dying

You --
gouger of eyes
plucker of stars
clear girl, vanishing in smoke like a magic show

Me --
making a permanent mourning cross between my eyebrows
begging you, forever on the run like a wave, not to return the ocean

I have been known to say that yours was a windsong,
tall and stoic like a ceiba,
and dangerous like it too
then suddenly sad, like a long journey home from a joyous trip

Your body inhabited by echoes and maudlin voices,
and when we would least expect it, shielded under the covers with only a flashlight between us,
a bird would shift free from inside you and fly away leaving us both aghast and delighted

You and me --
a conversation between angels
a violent sob before the sea, sad fury, unstoppable
we were made of everything

Article © Rocio Iglesias. All rights reserved.
Published on 2022-11-14
Image(s) are public domain.
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