looked at me with those eyes bilious yellow floating in the mood now filled her deep basins. He tried to smile and gave me a grin. End of her cracked lips escaped two thick wires smelly saliva bubbles. I ran to help her, cleaned it as best I could and kissed his forehead. Unconsciously I leaned against his chest, the swelling of times there was only one jelly skins that covered the sides of his ribcage.
was my lover for over a decade. Now die the death that she had chosen. Physiological defenses were no longer in the wreck of his body, AIDS had eaten with impunity in the inner silence of their cells.
I picked up the guitar and felt the strings to extract that melody so often share the candlelight on summer nights. She tried to join me as I did then but dry, chapped lips refused. The notes of the guitar to pursue my trembling voice, in harmony with the tears that clouded my glasses.
I kept scratching the strings after she had escaped a better world. The grin vanished from his face and smile of the past is portrayed in his countenance. I stopped playing and kissed her lips. I rode the guitar behind my back and without looking back, I turned down the hall carrying a bundle of memories.
Marco Antonio Peña
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