I feel compelled to give you an ending, a promise of hope
to move against despair
even if the act is simple as falling in love, another city,
a long day casting shadows in the park.
I lost something & can’t get over the fact—
the most powerful world
was the world of destruction & high. And, or,
I ran through the cane fields in splendor. When the interior
puzzled with the physical world
I cut myself down. The way & I became brothers.
Not blood. Not sugar. Not rust.
Snow in Calichoza.
In the too soon & always, I held the machete,
I built myself