Minerva Ochoa Poet Lyric

We Slept a Local Caress

I saw, and I loved a beam of mixture:
sorrow and presice love, 
to those capturing brown crystals.
My voice, an echo central,
Of wings manufacturing blocks of diamonds.
Fainting over the sorrows webs.
Covered in shadows of caress.
We Slept and wept tears of sweat.
We slept, the night grew silent... a local caress.
Kissing, touching lips with open stampede.
We slept for centuries in your casket.
We slept, as we made flags of elevation on the moon light gleaming.

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