Mustachioed Muchacho

My whiskers glisten a greasy cast forged from adolescent flame. My antlers are a velvet ebony wide as the forest he had sharpened. When sideways winds pelt my bleached brow with steamy dry snow, he keeps me balmy. Famished under sweltering rays he fills my belly with whiskey of rye. Traveling a ridge to wondrous realms of cloud color I depend on his strokes of wisdom. Chipping the wood reveals statuesque oak with a scent of crisp sawdust. Shield breathe so as not to waste my words. Hide any trace of sadness and light up my face with gladness. Most of all, remind me of red white and blue candy shops awash in shoe polish. Welcome to the club of walking, hugging, fuzzy bear skins. Burlap kisses from pop and Sal’s leather salutations. My sidekick, my amigo, my bro. My mustache.


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