The Night Colors Us Equal

Tears for a loved one

Lost in a dream

Burn Sincerity

I remember hearing you cry through childhood walls

Full circle it seems how I should now you;

alike in countenance

in temperament: foil

yet at night

with the quelling of the ego

two lost children cry out (this time I for you)

————————————

Awakened by grief

a sadness unbearable

I used to wake

up in dreams when I died

I would triumph

over my enemies and wake

gloriously

in the end

But this was different:

I watched 32 35 37

distant acquaintances

speak ill truths of opportunities lost

I heard them speak nonchalant

your inability to action

scars faded

my fresh wounds

I always thought when this happened I wouldn't feel much.

I thought frustration had turned to apathy

disenchantment to distance

... you know, they say I look nothing like my mother.

I hear you whimper, cry out through childhood walls

seemingly thicker now...

I saw

the scarlet red

of your greatest mistake

trickle from her chest

(the bosom of my being

the bringer of my life)

and meet me at the bottom

I bled too

hardened by drudgery and hops

your hands killed us both

and I bled too-

much in fact

I must've died, but

linoleum floors do wonders.

calm cool collected

a series of scarlet memories never reflected

at the bottom I lost you

I was the infant to your middle-age

I received your torch, reluctant.

I didn't want your flame.

I didn't want your trust

I didn't want your name

I didn't want your lust-

for life,

now regret

emerging at the bottom of a

brown paper bag

Bodega Blues

I hear you whine and whimper, cry out through childhood walls-

of steel

those toes on which I danced

cringed in fear

those eyes into which I poured myself honest

cried themselves sincere

those thighs from which I back-flipped

and hoped to never-land

so that I may be your little boy forever

but some dreams are just plain stupid when you wake up

I hear you die through childhood walls

and through you I died too

Bud-hardened hands

eyes stony vigilant

I looked to days of kindred flesh, but

your pain is mine

generation valley bridged

four years to fifty

the night colors us equal

-Joseph Vito Ramírez