A NEST IN THE BRANCHES
I offer you a night
of bliss by the river
and unconditional
love. I offer you a
nest in the branches
my little night bird.
It is March, spring,
and your body will
be floating in water.
You will not die.
But float under silver
stars and the moon,
silver as well, and your
thighs will be tickled
by nests branches.
IN THE WOODS
In the woods
one can walk
for miles and
miles in a
long circle.
Time will slow
down or speed
up. It all
depends on
your mind’s state.
Birds will chirp.
Your belly
will growl. Fruit
can save you
from the end.
The sounds of
the woods will
linger on
in your dreams,
an echo
of birdsong,
branches and
twigs breaking,
your belly
growling like
a stray dog’s
growl, the hiss
of a snake,
a rattle
and hum; wind.
Born in Mexico, Luis Cuauhtémoc Berriozábal lives in California and works in the mental health field in Los Angeles, CA.His poetry has been published by Blue Collar Review, Borderless Journal, Escape Into Life, Kendra Steiner Editions, Mad Swirl, SETU, and Unlikely Stories.
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