the flutter o el arrebato

I saw a fly tremble on the floor, gasping , I saw its last struggle

on a shiny day on a marble floor bathed by sunlight

I stopped like smelling flowers a willing witness to El arrebato

a second of my life a lifetime gone

there were we together

reminds me of the last leaf an autumn not long ago

who dares think about the last breath or the last day

heck my last consonant or my last vowel

how will it end

I shutter at the thought

yet I recall admiring the colors of the wings

how the before el arrebato shone las alas del prisma

and yet life cares little

if one comes or goes

Spring sprouted though green

fresh leaves shone fresh as fuck

ready for the next sucker
to pass by
and smell El arrebato
like that last time
I can’t remember my mother touched me
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