The wildflowers


the wildflowers

 

I have been laying in the cemetery of wars left and gone, regretting the dead and buried. Knowing old sins cannot be forgiven. I don’t seek forgiveness. I know you cannot be forgiven for acts of the loins and the greed. I have been drinking for 30 years and I cannot see the light at the end.

 

I tried to find salvation and redemption in the dance halls of Texas where the angels with wings do not tread. In the dens of the devil, we can find dark angels and sirens with no wings. Just kind voices seeking peace and calm in the world of shit. Dear Amie whispered to me, dear Johnnie. “Dirty love, clean love. Just the same. A fire needed to be kept alive. We become subdued and blinded, we must filled the empty lines in your journal with new patterns. Love or hate? Empty or full? Alive or dead? Hot or cold”. Does it matter?”

 

Dear Amie danced for me in the safety of her apartment . She undressed slowly for me by the three am moon. She gave my eyes a delicious view of soft skin and tender flesh. She showed me that life can be sweet as honey and as tasty as the Summer wines. Amie falls into my arms and she whispered. “Bruises, scars, the intoxication of the taste of skin and flesh, make us feel we are alive and well.”

 

I wanted to run. Flight or fight? But I saw the fire in her eyes. I decided to free-fall into love without a safety net. I stayed.

 

In the morning. We took a long ride to the Texas sea. Amie wanted a million wildflowers in her view.We found a valley near the coast. The wildflowers were growing wild and free. Must of been acres of the free flowers for us to see. Amie took her shoes off, ran into the valley and she danced with the wildflowers and she sang words of thankfulness.

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She came back to me. Lifted her long cotton dress and she straddled me. Her gentle hazel eyes looked into my eyes. She kissed me and she told me. “Dear Johnnie, this is real my lover. Feel my flesh against your flesh, see the wildflowers growing freely. We must live and die. Better to find some sweetness and warmth before we are dead. The wildflowers are free my love. Lets become like the wildflowers, allow the past to die and for us to know rebirth.”

 

I kissed her and held her in a long embrace. I told her, you are my wildflower. My sweetest wildflower dream forever.

 

Coyote/John Castellenas