Kaleidoscopic Tears

It started with a broken coffee decanter

leading to a trip to the Cuban bakery

down the street for a morning coffee fix

The lights and sounds of a busy street

The smell of fine Cuban cigars and

the sound of old men chitchatting away

The smell of tamales, fresh baked bolillos, pan dulce, and the powerful

aromatic smell of coffee

The smell of Jack

as you pour it into the coffee

The way the world feels slightly more

bearable after the fourth cup

and how it makes the next twelve

hours of work a blur

The quietness and peacefulness

of the world at midnight

A pause heading up to the apartment

The faint sound of a cry for help

The panic and rush that sets in

That gut-wrenching feeling when

you no longer feel a pulse

The weight of a dead corpse

resting in your arms

The taste of blood from biting down

on your lip to hold in the screams

The police lights and never ending questions

The irony and knowing you'll never be a able to step foot into another Cuban bakery

Knowing that come tomorrow

he'll sleep in a coffin six feet under

Knowing you'll sleep in tomb of bottles

filled to the rim tonight

Mask the smell of booze and Camels

with cake-batter and a spritz of Love Spell

Wipe the tears and head up the stairs

The day's smells and sounds grip

around the throat and choke like a noose

Bent down on all fours gasping for air

Lying there on the bathroom floor

starring at the ceiling through

kaleidoscopic tear-filled eyes