He stood at the top of the cliff, “On the last day of the year”, those salty words touched every part of his tongue. The rocks below sounded happy at the end of the abyss.
The calls, the messages, the texts, leaving almost announced. The buses that run and stop at the next avenue, his maroon suede shoes hidden behind the filth of the street, his body spread across the green grass, the old park, his mother crying over the phone begging a never-ending “Don’t Leave”. None of this could hold him back any longer.
The long way down and his soul became one in unified sound and sentiment. “I feel my soul flies. I feel it go,” he says senselessly; “I feel I’m flying. Today, on the last day of the year, the day is mine. Only mine.”
The people on the streets, the music dancing from party to party, and the bottle rockets; blessed rockets, don’t matter. The day is mine.
J-Lopez. (dario mariategui)
San Diego
05.16.2010
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