just come back...

Cold December moon climbing over the mountains of Northern Mexico

The dessert wind howls through the night... the smell of mesquit

burns in the valley... you roll over in bed... and mumble words

I did not understand...

Before I crawl back into bed I light a candle at my alter...

At the end of the hall... my little alter... candles and flowers

sitting under a black velvet painting of Raquel Welch... that

I found in the old market in Juarez...

I light a candle and burn some incense and a poem on

Japanese paper in a little bowl... I call out her name...

I whisper it low... I say... “forgive me... for whatever

I have done... just come back...”

I listen for footsteps...

I close my eyes and try to sense the presence of an angel...

The devil... her ghost... I can’t find her shadow...

I can’t find her smell... I don’t hear her crying...

In my room... in the hall... in the kitchen... in the den...

In my dreams...

There is a small scar on my wrist... next to my vain...

It does not let me forget... it does not let me go...

It will be there for ever... but she... she always needed

more love than I could ever give her...

I don’t pretend that I ever loved her...

But now... I feel I love her...

There is a woman who’s name is Elena sleeping in my bed.

And I am writing poems in blood on ancient paper...

In hopes of seducing the ghost  I have tried so hard to abandon...

“forgive me... for whatever I have done... just come back...”