LUIS CUAUHTEMOC BERRIOZABAL

HIT AFTER HIT

The cigarette dangled in your mouth.
You took hit after hit.
Your fingers held it like if it was pure gold,
like if it was a special woman.
You savored each puff
for hours and hours. Your hair
smelled of tobacco and
what seemed to smell like seaweed.

You loved the sea.
You loved to walk on the beach.
The Pacific Ocean ’s breeze
carried your cigarette smoke back
and forth. You brought your camera
with you and a six-pack of light
beer. It was the life you lived.

TAKE TO THE SEA

I turn these rocks into flowers.
I give a handful to all my loves.
I turn the rain into sweet wine
and the flowers back to rocks.
I don’t throw rocks at anyone.
I turn the noise into silence and
the trees into home sweet home.

I take to the sea.
It fills my thirst for adventure.
I go there smiling.
I turn the shells into coins.
I hold them in the palm of my hand.

I take to the sea.
I spend most of the days there.
I hold my love standing on the beach.

Luis lives in California and works in Los Angeles. His poetry, art, and photography have appeared in Blue Collar Review, Gasconade Review, Pearl Magazine, Nerve Cowboy, and Unlikely Stories.