by Sergio A. Ortiz

You, voiceless and buried
in a long-forgotten childhood hideaway,
a dark jungle where every tree
looks like every other tree.

I long for your knees pushing against my thighs,
but what is asked for is often destroyed
by the very words that seek it.

It is time for me to crack open
my skull, invent a new way of viewing you.
I know I am dying but why
should that make a difference?

I will build you a mansion that will stand forever,
with a smile folding at the corner of my mouth,
and a star sitting on the tip of my tongue,
a lit stone around which your body can blossom.

My bed will no longer be the fossilized prison
where I learned to love to you.

Sergio A. Ortiz is the founding editor of Undertow Tanka Review. He is a two-time Pushcart nominee, a four-time Best of the Web nominee, and 2016 Best of the Net nominee, and 2nd place in the 2016 Ramón Ataz Annual Poetry Competition sponsored by Alaire publishing house. He is currently working on his first full-length collection of poems, Elephant Graveyard.