MANUAL LABORS

 

 

Aaron A. Abeyta

love poem on stone

i’ve loved her
perhaps not like i should have
but more like the specks of white
thinnest and scattered salt
blended into this stone

and she is the blade of grass
from scripture
the green and crescent hand
of the river whose sweat
she rolled into this stone

this stone whose river voice
has kissed at the edges of me
bent itself slowly
into the shape of
this stone

red stone small corazon
of shadow where the river of
her right hand her skin
thumbs fingers thumbs
caresses this stone

smooth stone work stone
that is the way i
should have loved her
like a slow rolling that brings
her scent into the wind