transcribe a sonnet by Efren Rebolledo. ***
Bowl murky and thick curls
for your candid forms like a river
and scatter in the stream, curly, dark roses
lit my kisses.
While the thick
descojo rings, I feel cold and light touch of your hand
long
chill through me, piercing to the bone. Your pupils
chaotic and sullen
flash when they hear the sigh that comes
tearing the bowels
and while I Lay Dying, you get thirsty,
pretend a black and persistent
vampire hot blood that my builds. ___
H / T: Roberto Bolaño.
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