Short Trachea Poems

In a moment of Despacito,
my heart bubbles with joyous symphonies 
from your crackless trachea,
how you compose notes with dexterity.
What if I told you, 
I want it to be you?

Each minute with you is a wedding party
directed with expertise.
Open up and let's walk through this path,
chasing us around the merry-go-round,
oozed up with strawberries and daffodils.
In deep passionate laughter we float.
What if I told you,
I want it to be you?...

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or a poison dosimetric
juxtaposed drop by drop
that you ingest absorbed
while your mind wanders
between little or nothing
that you can absorb
of the arguments you despise.

or a flexible filament
that round the trachea
snared in the beam
because you wander life
between the comings and goings
unnecessary ideas.

or else the thud of the lead flight
that snapshot snatches it all
prostrating body and mind
since nothing perceives or receives as comfort
of insufficient happiness....

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