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June 22, 2022

A New Life

Anthony Aguero

We were in Berlin — I had no one,

not a reference of the once war torn

country now in their most

progressive era, Berghain and The Lab

thousands of miles away from us.


In those days, yes, I could dream

with my eyes alert, two dark grapes

begging for closure. I dreamed

mostly with Christian, then, in his dark


bedroom with the blinds drawn and thumping

house music and two men tearing each other

apart. We imagined big those days:

the candelabra, a stick of gold, talking

birds, and a beautiful man feeding us


seedless red grapes. The mind was a luxury

to have, and, the flesh, but a vehicle

spitting snow. Yes, we wanted better.

No, we weren’t going away. Bacchus,

in the corner, empty-handed and weeping.


Barely, can I keep my eyes open he said.

The strange syntax of the sentence

concerning to the hearing of the heart.

Dream I said. The music and men, still going.

For what felt like hours, our eyes were closed