Alessia Sanchez

I stumbled upon a tasteless landscape,

one that carries worldly desires

in the hollow soles of high heels.

I stared at their imprint, tracing

a meaning resurfaced from a jug at the river.

I poured a love, once rich, on me,

a vessel open for kisses given.

It filled, then drained, relentlessly,

a spirit lost to tears, scriven.

Their cries, the same, the same as all

Words stolen from mountains worn with age.

Words stripped of weight like crumble stone,

Their truths dissolve, uncarved, unknown.

So tell me: what is love to you?

What’s the value of respect?

A gloss, a flask, an empty man’s betrayal

salt to the eyes that dared to believe.

Respect lies broken, stripped of its arms,

a soldier left to weep.

And as I stared into the jungle,

nothing remained the same.

To think I could not be wronged

I failed.

For love and boredom sit side by side,

Blurring lines that should not be.

Their crossing spoils what once could hide

The hollow stare, uncaring, free.