Purple noon cups the waves
of thick storm watermounds.
Fleshy robes entangle
an ocean of pelvic bones
tired of breeding.
Air bubble inside the brain
threatens to brake the headnest,
leaving a salty hair taste
that cannot be lifted by the tongue.
A boy cuts his face away, becomes man,
the morning news.
Dog translates with
human voice: “the flesh holds no thought”
Fishing pole rests
between blond toes off the coast of Panama.
The day like the boat
has run out of fuel.
© Javier Felix ALL RIGHTS RESERVED