Show me how to open my eyes at bedtime
brush my serpentine curiosity not to serve its
dictation whether the anemic comfort being
seduced in your estranged enchantment
filled within my boundaries of yearnings,
your unpredictable senses makes a potion of
oddness, why each morning I walk away with
hungry visions
yet the springs of your inevitability
are unable to retaliate the boiling waters of
a hot day, to make moist into my depreciating
shades of affection
to learn to bound the radical origins of
intimacy
why so reluctant to flow with the floods of
my individuality for you to thirst the prettiest
gravity of blaze that scorns the peak
of imprisoned wills
to hook upon my careful mind
show me how to loose the appetite within,
and replace it with tiny raindrops
that will drench your waterless
and puzzled longings.
By: Maya Guzman Santos
