Spledors: Prose

Splendors

by Armando Ortiz

The splendor of 500 golden Taj Mahals

Hand built by generations of personal rebirths

Would speak but a few phrases, of

A love that’s deeper than the ocean blue

One hundred hail Mary’s would not be enough

To thank the heavens for making us copulate

A thousand crosses cannot bleed the memories

That on this short lived life we’ve made

I still hold that plastic red cup

While you fill it to the brim with cold water

That freshens my soul, and cools my fatigue

While I analyze your peasant hands, and look at your granite eyes

If all of this were to happen again

I would be left with an unfulfilled desire

To call out you name, and

Declare my deep attachment to you

The exhausting migration of a monarch butterfly

Cannot compare the distances I’d travel to see you

I’d head west, and walk into the ocean

While my shadow would linger and talk with the setting sun.

While my shadow would linger and talk with the setting sun.