A Blessing

7–21–15

Albert Serna Jr.
Dreams of Death

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Sleep deprived, unfocused, and lost in the haze of fleeting and repetitive thoughts,
It’s you that is the only constant in my life, a pillar to place my weary head when it’s full of chaos.

Too long now has it been since fire rose from my chest to illuminate what I already know,
An answer to the question lingering on my tongue, waiting to find its way to you but never reaching your ear.

My only absolution is veiled by your silent smile and the electric touch of your fingers on my neck,
How can I even begin to let you go when there is so much left unwritten, so many secrets between our locked fingers?

Perhaps it is better to seek benediction from the memory of your sweet and tender lips as they touch my own,
Or maybe I should sanctify myself in the cool waters of your eyes as you stare past me and into the heart of a lost and broken fool.

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Albert Serna Jr.
Dreams of Death

Journalist, Traveler, Homo-Extraordinaire. Let’s get weird! CLOD.