For Jenna

Like a wild bull

Toro toro toro!

Your hair shone in the sun,

Flor flora florecimiento

En tus ojos libertad sin fin


Olive eyes and skin,

slender hands,

y en mis sueños eres una arboleda

where the sun shimmers through golden hair.

Is she the bull or matador?


Grabbing the hilt of life like a sword

her red cape flashes, flying victoriously

She is the bull and matador

The crowd cheers “Olé!” 

Why does the crowd cheer?


Enraptured in the moment and all that lies ahead

with swift movements and narrow escapes

both creatures sweating, panting short breaths

they turn to face as the final charge begins


Estocada! she penetrates the dense muscular frame

the bull bursts forth, thrusts, and tears away

all but your solar plexus

before breathing his last

and collapsing on the clay


the matador clutching her waist

right hand clenched on the reddened soil

stretching across her foe she whispers

“olé olé olé…”

to rest in the peace of overcoming;

en la primavera de su vida

en la paz de la muerte


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