What Defines Us

Of things that break us irredeemably beyond repair
like the defining gazes of dressing room mirrors
 
Sundays, when malls feel most homey
aisles emptying wide for small confessions,
 
Whispered denials of dints, invisible depressions left
mocking us in the face, acnes, or mistaken cure-alls
 
Therapeutic values of minty kisses at first-nights, then love
howling in the rain on the spine of a barbed wire fence

I Have No Need For Love

I have no need
for love, this
 
side of bed is warm
enough
 
I can probe with one hand
the comforting under-
 
side of my pillow, then reach
for the other
 
to wrap myself
into a snug bundle
 
still with room
enough
 
for you 

Copyright, 2012, Emeniano Acain Somoza, Jr.
All rights reserved.