Alexander Zepeda

"I would like to paint, but I’m a terrible painter, so I write. I write about still moments and flurried thoughts and the memories that come before you sleep. "


IG: @______alexander______

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Jangled JAw

Curbside, sun slice on its way Convenience snacks in a jacket pocket Candy rocket and spiced sweets full Tucking your hair, because it
means too much business and in this stare you give me the green
seeming to last like a sour coat
And here a crumb gets caught Causing you to cough
Yet not flipping off
As long as there’s a deal
Speaking in the desert night,
We’ve been hopping cars
Citrus scented interior and speakers blasting low
There are bats in the suburban streetlights, to scatter as you pull up Putting the glass to your bald lips taking the drip as a thick syrup
I cross the moon as often as I
cross your mind these nights
resting face in the rearview mirror
I feel your voice as it reaches the hills’ ears, yet it also falls deaf in the valley we’ve arrived
And there was cheaper perfume
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The street where 70s half-dead trees hang
brushing the top of the bus in its pass
and the cars with axles on packs of cement grin.
In a story I wrote we walk down this
street, avoiding chores and honest responsibility.
But those rarely turn onto my mind as I am preoccupied with the chance with you. Out here by the many
cars we are finally alone. Making faces as they
park, seeing your laugh is all I could see for
days. Let’s make time to chase them down, those hours found in the dusk. I know it’s getting late,
I smile, and wish you hadn’t said it.
Along Charleston, Then
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Here or
An exit away
This moment, my finger tracing the beauty the softness of you in a chest of pressed roses
This is yours and conditional
Grating the rest of me
The knowing that all of this is fragile high tight-roped
I return to your lips
The running of your glossy charm
It’s just moon and late stays now
It’s 1:44 it’s temporary
That’s why it shines so sharply
Just let the melting persist
Just hush and hum into me
Just be here so we both can be
I want you
Til the night is reminded to retire
Til the sun is chored to it’s height A frilled eye, a gussied up dime Look at what you’ve made
To cause me to dance
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