words

i feel solemnly naked here
in this repetition,
dripping sweat loudly
underneath this awful sun
for now that she has gone
she took shade and atmosphere
and left me with this burning coil
where my heart once lived.

this is climate where men fight lions
and murder one another should some god
be watching, for surely this is worse
than any hell that exists
and what reprieve must be granted
for we who do bad things.

i dream of her every night
and in every dream she is the same,
there, knowing, helping me through
the languid hours, pointing me
from moment to moment
but never does she touch me
or even speak my name,
never does she touch me,
never does she touch me.

i have felt this quiet before
and it is shocking
in its finality year after year
that i visit these steps
and i must shake with madness
and i must go up and up
and i must hobble limb for limb
along this broken bastard theory.

-S.C. Martinez