Ricardo Vicente Jose Ruiz
could you hear the devil when Gorgonio pressed a blade on the grackles throat ?
a bleeding sacrament occupied by a scalding renewal.
innocents unfettered by catholic raze trip over yesterday's heroes .
a silent elegy poured warm into Ofelia's bowl .
you requested a soft death , it had become difficult to imagine the black cowl and curved blade .
an empty hum with no opinions , only Santa Maria Goretti will drop the needle .
neither of us could recall our intention while we laid on a bed of oleanders.
dust on the pieta , your second mother appeals at the deserts end.
leaves threaded above a crucible , the reeling has ceased among shadows boxing .
the pot steeps as you shake between courtesies and condolences.
near grief you weep over foreign holds carried by hidden waves.
twin devils drawn out of oil in the glass