Wine Dreams Of Death

Amphora

hold it gently,

be careful to not

tip it over

or let it

fall.

it would shatter,

wine spreading

over the floor,

a scene replayed

from antiquity.

Como Un Pastel De Tres Leches

I've lived a 1,000 lives

behind my eyes.

Dream or Memory (?),

I ask myself

time to time.

Our state of being

is curious

as we drift

back and forth

between

these layers.

A Type Of Death

there was salvation

in our little death.

hearts beating in a box,

illumination

hidden,

sucking the life

out,

relinquishing it

to you.