::: Don Juana :::

Smashed her good china,
And threw the broom away
Burning
With dreams
She put
”Come”
on her bedroom door
and waited.
Can we ever
Fill these hearts
With such a birthright?
Given a basket
Of loveseeds
We spend the decades
Saying “Where are the fields?”

Show me an opened heart;
I will show you scars.
Who does not have them
Is one who
Does not.

Don Juana says
”No more- my life is mine”.
And men, men
Are our hope and poison,
The challenge and defeat
Our hearts dare not beat without,
No matter that
Our blood sustains us.
And takes us wherever
We need to go.

Written by: ~ Barb C

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