Guitar
Oh, winged instrument,
how you’ve always captured
my heart into each string.
The six strings implode
into you like a black hole,
the magnificence of
the harmonic sinew
stretching out along your
mahogany body. The wooden
strands stand as bones to
your whole and your songs,
so beat on, sing on
moons and comets and
send stars into spinning
frenzies until they collide
and spool into supernovas,
one star map to another.
Alexander P. Garza (he/him) is a Mexican-American poet from Houston, TX. His work has appeared in Toyon, Indianapolis Review, Dissections, Star*Line and others. He is a graduate student in the Program for Writers at University of Illinois - Chicago. Visit him on Instagram/Twitter, @alexanderpgarza and http://alexanderpgarza.com.
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