Alveraz Ricardez

Dreams of Sinaloa

horseback on a clay trail in jalisco
i find two vanilla cream scorpions
one on it’s back and one in tears

i ask the sad scorpion if he knows
the way back to colima

his sun cracked voice
whispers between spittled sand
‘save me from being without my isabella’

his eyes roll back and his arms
lift with the rise of my boot

i scoop the dead lovers into my palm
and bury them on the side of the
clay trail in jalisco

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