100. The heartburn of love

What is
this desperate need
to feast
on long gone cigarettes of long,
on wine glasses,
on gulps of carbonated life,
on hard, wet organs,
on every distraction,
that I've cultivated
through time,
languages,
landscapes,
methods,
journeys,
pleads,
and tears?

What is
this latency of life
suspended
in the experience
of yearning,
lodged in an
ever present time,
licking my heart hard,
blowing on it,
mounting my chest
like a wild,
violent stallion?

Is this
the heartburn of love,
disheartened
with the illusion of resolution,
clamoring for the bell to go off
for time to cease,
and with it,
the pain
of human existence?

© Ciro Coelho. Pachamama Cabin, Santa Barbara, July 20, 2008, 1:31pm