HOPING is a giant hammer, terrifying, and insane
at tender times, while the heart hides away;
crying like laughter releases compressed
emotions — this is no wrong or right but a golden
trumpet, teeth shattering upon each note played___
the paunch of my feelings gilded wainscoting.
Wonder ing if Heaven has graveyards — the hope
of dying twice/once in hell upon Earth the other
one inch inside the pearled gates.
:: 06.20.2020 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 