is to love the contents that construct us like the iron from the same framework. How some specific genome connects
one form to another. A triumph of high evolution: the denial of service when loading a website which shows a an empty tree
and I’m unable to track the birthday package which could be hidden under the welcome mat or in the garden with the spoiled apples.
When I return it, there shouldn’t be a restocking fee like in the Merchant of Venice. Only the upheld blade unable to skin.
The press of lips holds back the confession like the moan from a mirror image that shows the places that turned red. Jesus,
my mother prayed when then purple formed from the unknown disease. She believed that every illness starts through physical
contact. Boil the spoons, overlay the sweaters, you’re too old to be kissed on the cheek, but too young to wait for
the coin in your mouth to rust.
-- Darrell Dela Cruz graduated from San Jose State’s MFA Program for Poetry. His work has appeared in or will appear forthcoming in The William & Mary Review, Grasslimb, Rock & Sling, OCA Enizagam, and Thin Air. He tries to analyze poems on his blog retailmfa.blogspot.com or rather he acknowledges his misinterpretations of poems.