Just a cause by the way.
She awoke at midnight; white was the window
beyond blue slumber of moon-soaked bare
asses, drenched years pass of vision’s veils of /Sundays
she dreamed of red — her nose bled:
enjoying a message in a bottle
oh a message in a bottle yea
from hundreds of years ago
Enjoy in God and be weak and chaste
a burgeoning love upon the waves
she thirsted day and night — wishing someone might get
her message in a bottle //
Writing filthy angonies
toward divine labor that warps a world
she said, “the mourning after love, then the sadness.”
:: 02.07.2022 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 