Death With Lime and Chives
When we repeat, when we repeat
our nightly ritual of Jalapeño Salsa
making DOOM lose its power
seeing our death with Limes and Chives
whether it is the garlic that keeps our seat
upon our tongue a multi-layered Samba
terminal, without a cure
one of us will end up at old dives
when upon our soul hits the heavy chili
a memory of the divinity to chop
fine all the details a flavor, a spice
fresh from the ground far from death
your touch was not timid of our immortality
it seemed time provided the best crops
a lifetime to build trust and entice
the moment the spice takes away our breath
