Island within island, Isle of Youth,

an egg born out of the crocodile,

as if to say I am done with you.

Children travel here from all over,

outcasts from adoption centers,

abuse, neglect, sweatshop slavery.

The revolution promised them safe

sanctuary for now, later abandons

them like everything and everyone

else in their miserable, short lives--

star-crossed lovers meet here,

young, rebellious against adulthood,

all the poisons of man-constructed

ideals, even this one, green like

papaya, unripe sour of guayabas--

little lies told by the main guayabero,

a man everyone says is coming

but never appears--these reflections

constructed on the surface of still

waters. What you see is not what

you dreamt. No adult supervision,

this is the island of a thousand deaths,

a thousand rebirths dissolved

in these shallows of opaline waters.