Day of the Dead

tattoos on benches
and love on death,
the dusty layers of lust
for life keeps waves
on their high heels.

playing beer pong
on a surfboard
which is propped
up on two barstools
in Diego's pseudo basement.

chilaquiles for breakfast
to soak up last night's ritual,
and rooster boxing for lunch
where we will eat the loser
for dinner.

I march hand in hand
with a silent stranger
up the hill to bring flowers
and beads and bowls
to the grave of her uncle.

then we paint the night
and do it all over again,
celebrating those who left;
this is one of the best
experiences of my life.