Aguacayo

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About a town in El Salvador that's been bombed to the ground

Lying in bed with our bodies melting together
                  Like a bowl of ice cream
          that's been sitting on the counter
                               for a moment
                                   or two
My hand bears the weight of your
                                                       testicles
Together, in the soft ice cream haze we lie
V
      I
           B
                 R
                      A
                            T
                                 I
                                     O
                                           N
                                                 S
                                from a nearby helicopter
                                         harden the haze
Into my mind jump pictures.........................
         Shells of buildings with grass growing from the walls
That fill mile after hazeeeeeeeeeeeeee mile
          Surrounded by the silence
          (Louder than the helicopter)
Walls that used to be called
                home
(Like your body was to mine)
The noise and the silence hover                hover
Hover        for a long while
The noise and the silence are heavy                       heavy
Heavy        with the flow
                                          of
                                             blood
                                                that
                                                  drips
                                                     down
                                                       the
                                                         grassy
                                                 walls
                                                 as
                                                 ice
                                                 cream
                                                 down
                                                 a
                                                 cone
                                                 The blood's
                                                 been washed away
By silence                 And only
the bowl
the grassy walls
and the memory of melting bodies
                                            remain
                                                        s              

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



                               
                                        

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