Charcoal shuffle, burnt white powder,
mirages lifting, lifting,  lifting.
Sky blue senoritas, castanets clicking,
sparkling and sticking, sticking,
In clapboard tones of Barcelona beats and white Gorilla renditions of free the people by sub machine and fragmentation devices.
While a blind man’s cane comes in the form of two dollar whores,
and cheap Rum, polluted waters of seaport’s pillows dictate the thirst of those ten dollar shoeshine refugees.
To find themselves under the ghost of Columbus,
Staring in a westward gaze against setting sunlit oceans of westward ho the inquisitions, and dispositions of conviction's wrath and bias disdain.
Long live the castanets clacking to drown out these in-opulent voices of my memory.

Indelible mark upon heart and mind,
those never forget moments of  a soul’s conflagrations.
High temp exposure, and third degree burns to the heart.
A lifetime, and possibly more, to heal and forget.
The worms being the ones to carry it away,
back to daylight on  rainy day percolations of bygone pains,
filtered, and forgotten,

finally forgotten.

O, this mark of the lamenting lover,
let it fade and die,
let it seek its freedom in forgetfulness and innocence of younger times,
when the heart did not rule,
and playthings were but blocks and dolls,
And hearts were made of red construction, Crayola papers.
Stuffed in brown bags hanging.

Alas the valentines have burned,
and scattered to history winds.
What remains is but an ash of a memory
A dieing ember of what it truly meant, to Love and be loved.
All that remains is this indelible mark.