‘The cold-blooded lover

The Our cold-blooded lover

My bad karma led me to you in 1986. You were tire and wore-out and needed a gentle touch and kind smile. I have not forgotten your wanting hazel eyes and your beautiful face. I was trying to drink myself to death and you wanted someone to truly love you.

Our desperate needs and pouring emotions, allowed us to dance with the Devil. Allowed the will of the heart to bathe is wishes and lies. The hope and wishes of needy people lead to the tragic tale with only poor ending and many tears.

I loved your hazel eyes and wild spirit. You looked at me like I was your salvation and a safe place. Our love wasn’t allowed. You belong to someone else and I was just a cold-blooded lover looking for one reason to be alive.

We found each other in the East side bars of Detroit. The whiskey, wine and beer made us indulge in hell-bend carnage and arise hope in the dark water of impossible. We open doors that should have been locked and secure.

I remember your face. Your begging smile wanting me to tell you. Come live with me and leave this depression life. The strong whiskey made us feel safe in the fourty dollars hotels and we infused ourselves with desperate and passionate love. Where lovers find peace in midnight hours. A second of shelter and peace, than daybreak bring the real world and real face.

Tonight I watched the midnight moon and I remember you. How I left you like everyone else did. You ran for the west coast and found more greedy men and early death.

Today no-one speak sweetly of you. I wondered how you died and did you ever find love? I whispered to the sleeping Gods. Please take a lost angel into heaven. She did not know tenderness or kindness with us here in this world. She was too sweet and kind for us greedy men. She gave everything and she accepted little back in return.

I remember you. I remember your hazel eyes and your beautiful face. I remember a beautiful woman who knew hard roads and little kindness. I love your memory and I wish I was kinder. Old age had taught me. Gifts of love are rare and they are our sweetest days and night.

Lovely one. I remember you.

John Castellenas/Coyote