words

wine with ice and medication
like breath from the ocean,
the wave climbs until
no sun can be derived,
only the pale shadow
of its preamble,
the slow embrace,
a deep blue streak in the sky.

arrested by a synaptic shower,
born in this here and this now
where these chalk melodies
are common as blood and fire,
secrets measured in milligrams
and swallowed every morning
with a cigarette and a shudder.

the patterns slowly fade,
the words turn to fog
and the whole infrastructure
melts into something else entirely,
an ink blot containing the universe,
a flower in the ground,
a dog stretched out in the shade.

i can’t see it but i know it is there,
dividing the focus,
breaking the bend,
brick and mortar keeping this world
from the other like a shepherd,
i watch the rain streak down the screen
and think of heartburn and laughter,
and all other thoughts fade.

-S.C. Martinez