Toro


Im not saying it isn't true,
I can only see myself in you,
Leona.
But there is a touch that cannot be felt,
Or met with a howl loud enough
To evacuate, or cauterize.
There is a gap between sand and snow
And there is a large margin between
Your gun and the blow.
I can only watch the blast explode,
Leona.
But there is a house with too many doors,
With an empty one-way
In place of the cardinal.
There is a beeping in the being
Where there should be silence
Or a tendon beating
I can only pump my blood for you,
Leona.
But there is a wound much deeper
In this eyelash to cheek
In this growth in your colon
In this bend of my heart
I can only, only grow older,
Leona.

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