Papier-mâché
by Ted Guevara
Develop a world that is controlled,
deepen its roots so they reach
the bottom most, not necessarily
hot. Keep your fragility. Don’t let it
touch fire. The woman you’re crazed over
is solid. You know her every move
and have seen the misfortune if you
don’t watch your step. Pay attention
to her ethos. It glimmers like gold.
You see glints of it when you first see
her after a cry. You settle for moods.
These rare moments. Because you crave
for her when she’s not around.
You’re in pieces, too many shapes,
and color, and texture, all cut up
to remake that mind of hers. You are glued.
Her face, her face, only
if you can fill the emptiness.
Ted Bernal Guevara has had poems appear in Rattle, THAT Review, Suisun Valley Review, Spirit Lake Review, Vita Brevis Press, Vending Machine Press, FU Review Berlin, Cathexis Northwest Press, and more. His website is his name on Amazon.com. He is on Instagram and Facebook. His precept has always been “Labels, you can peel off. Minds, you don't know where the edges are.”
