The Nomad

She sat in the shore of the sea, she needed to breathe.
She wondered if the waves that kissed her feet, were the same that waved his ship.
She thought back at his body’s silken glaze,
And how it would luster on the linen shades.

He wanted a lady, fresh from a family home
But he had no idea about her nomadic soul.
And little did he know about the abyss in her heart,
And how she dreamed of discovering the stars.

He got a woman possessed by the world,
And all he had built for them was never her home.
He found her lady, but she wouldn’t carry pearls and a cross
For the crowds was her peace and in their wonder she would get lost.

One night she took a road trip to the beach,
Hoping that the sea would satiate her gypsy dreams
And as she touched the salty water, she wondered if he could see her face in all of those ports,
For she whispered her good-byes and hoped the waves would deliver her love.

*AM

You hated yourself
Before anyone hated you.
And you hated them, they don't understand you.
And you bled trough your eyes
Before anyone saw you.

Only at night do they come out of the underground, of their ***** creeks 
And is in darkness that they truly thrive in. 
Waiting for the awakening, 
They don't sleep.

Quietly waiting for the sun to set,
So they can fully rejoice eating each other's flesh.

You can almost feel the desperation in their hisses watching as the moon becomes their God,
Worshiping the darkness as it embraces and consumes the above.

Anxiously anticipating the souvenirs of the night,
Savoring how they will carve and engrave each other's eyes.

In plain daylight, you can almost smell the poignant stench they bathe on,
As they helplessly conceal the guilt from their nocturnal hunts.

As the city lives they remain thirsty animals, among their own, among cannibals.
And only when scarce shadows pace the empty streets,
Do they indulge in it for what it tuly is,
And can be who they truly are:
Rodents, hiding in the dark.

AM

Put on a suit and a pair of heels,
Maybe they won't see the imposter hiding underneath.

Let your craving make you my Eros,
And let it make me your indulging Aphrodite,
In the mountains of the paradise, let sensuality electrify.

Let me submerge into your spell,
And let your toxic fingers trail through my swells,
And in the dawn, let all my secrets tell.

Let me bathe in your sunshine
Let your temptation hang on my lips when I smile.
And in the morning, let the flush on my cheeks stay a while.

Let me braid my body into your touch,
Let your addiction curl me and get me undone
And in those thirsty afternoons, let the sheets cover our blush.

Let me long for your touch,
And let your aroma infatuate my pores
And in those lavish nights, let my frail body render to yours.

Let your gaze rip through my skin,
And in my fantasies you will be my Olympus king
Let me be a shameless prisoner of your lips.

Let your gentle taste ignite my hips
And make my blood shiver when we move to the pulse of your kiss
And in the moonlight, let me bathe in your sins.

Let your insatiable desire make you my Adam,
And let it make me your poisonous Eve,
Let’s stay in the Gardens of Eden, in an eternity intertwined.

**AM

She lit a cigarette in his name, and poured some ***** onto her scars.
As the night became darker she whispered a broken 'i love you' from the door ajar.
She could see his chest rising and falling, and that was the first time she neglected her heart.

The second time came around as she poured some wine onto her guilt.
As the night became lonely she whispered her shaky 'im sorry' to the candles reflected on the silk.
She could see the shadow of his embrace as it moved slowly to the rhythm of their thrill.

The third time came as she poured whiskey onto her fears.
As the night became somber, she whispered 'i don't want to be here'.
From the kitchen counter she could see the glim of his body, as she hoped he couldn't see through her tears.

The last time came around as she poured some gin onto her lies.
From the shower curtain she could see the warm water falling upon his eyes.
When the night became heavy, she whispered a nostalgic 'good-bye' as her clothes fell from skin, for one last time

Last night it rained petrol, it started pouring.

The rain merged into a senseless storm, and somber water and omen drops slowly trickled down the wrinkled silken sheets that Mom never ironed, but always loved.

The drops fit perfectly through all the cracks in the broken roof,
that Dad never fixed but promised he would, and black mist began to fill the rooms.

The storm was brute and merciless, and it soon came knocking at the door. Thick air tainted the bottom of the mossy walls,
where Sister knew she shouldn't, but still painted purple dinosaurs.

The asphyxiating wind ran fast across the narrow corridors,
it took pieces of the broken family portraits that Brother sang to on his ever first encounter with alcohol.

Petrol fell endlessly for days, thunders echoed on the dense raindrops, and the whims of the winds covered the desperate whispers to make it stop.

---Neighbour's house always had sun, and Mother and Father and Sister and Brother years ago had moved to another town

And sitting there was I, watching as the petrol poured down---

He sits in a bar,
And the tears in his eyes dry.
He orders something sour,
to cover the bile.

As his throat burns,
the feeling in his chest screams in agony,
it wants to come out,
but it doesn't know how to leave.

He drinks in her name,
trying to forget her kisses,
and all of those damaging caresses.

But her face appears as an angel in distress
Oh how much he missed it.

He tries to stand up,
and help her fix her wings,
so that maybe she can fly.
Yet, she only laughs,
as he stumbles and tries.

He rubs his eyes and she is gone,
another sour drink.
He doesn't want to be alone.

He begs to see her one more time.
His head spins,
and he starts to cry.

Where did she go?
She didn't say good-bye.

**AM

They were an ethereal dance 
Covered in magic powder, translucent in it's mighty error

Placed mistakenly in heaven, for they belonged to the devil.

They were merely pagans and lived oblivious to the sins they were called upon

Once believers, once followers, now they danced in yellow shadows and echoes of the unknown

AM

Maybe we are the dust
That turned into stone

Perhaps you are a tree
And I'm the falling leaves
In the autumn dawn

Maybe you are the stars in the sky
And I'm the darkness of the night

Maybe you are the burning sun
And I'm the summer time  

Maybe you are the sand
And I am the fierce waves that cut in the shore

Maybe I'm the intense earthquake
And you are the cracks that form on floor

Maybe I am the spring
And you are the flowers that slowly bloom

Perhaps at times I'm the sunshine
And you are the monsoon

Maybe I am the senseless storm,
And you are the mitigating rain

Maybe I am the damage
And you are the hurricane.

Maybe you are the cold winter
And I am the soft snow.

Maybe you are the dessert
And I'm the desperate rain that doesn't come.

Perhaps you are the afternoon
And I'm the twilight
We are like the colors in the distance separately entwined

Maybe we are ardently beautiful
When we collide.

**AM

It turns out you are exactly like my father.
I’m overwhelming , and you are overshadowed
Maybe I’m like my mother

What were they if two intoxicated believers,

Unraveling their lust in the dark.

What were they if two poisoned liars,

Swallowing the truths from each other's past.

What were they if two amateur thieves,

Robbing breaths from each other's mouth.

What were they if two lost souls,

Wandering on each other's doubts.

What were they if two thirsty wrestlers,

Fighting their way onto each other's core.

What were they if two night walkers,

Crossing lines they could no longer ignore.

What were they if two masked incinerators,

Lighting flames onto their future ghosts.

What were they if two tangled shadows,

Obscuring the light on their souls.

What were they if two desperate silhouettes,

Drinking poison from each other's bodies.

What were they if two broken prisoners

Trying to free each other from their stories.

They take up all of the air in the room
I cannot breathe.

You take the plates of those who have nothing to eat
You take the shoes of those who have no feet

You poison the fish of those who have no sea
And exploit the land of those who never had property

You solve insanity like it's a disease
And create a war to bring peace
You take the home of those who never had where to live.

You pick the nails of those who don't have fingers
so they cannot scratch your fears

and you take the eyelashes of those who have no eyes
so you can sleep at night.

Hurt people hurt people,
And I've been hurting for way too long

You need one more day to get yourself together,
But one day turned into three
And three days turned into weeks.
And then you look back and you realize that you are further away than when you started.

You are scared that it will hurt so bad you won't be able to breathe,
And you are scared of turning out like your mother or your father,
So you can't stop the drinking, because for once it takes the guilt out of your mouth.
And you become so numb, that you can't feel anymore the way his wounds were absorbed by your skin until it suffocated you. 
So numb that you can't say your name.

But the truth is that you don't remember the last time you took a breath. 
And you already have turned out exactly like your mother and father,
And you don't know who you are anymore, because your name was one of those things that didnt matter.
So you don't really want stop the drinking, because for once it's 3am and you are not thinking, your eyes become so swollen from crying that they shut down and you finally can sleep.

But you say you need one more day to get yourself together,
And you promise yourself, again,  tomorrow will be better.

My daughter was born in 1995,
born with curly brown hair, and plum dark eyes.
She started walking at the age of two,
The smartest girl in her class,
would sing the ABC front and back

By the time she was four, we moved to Peru.
She picked up Spanish like she would pick up a flu.
At times she talked like an adult,
a half- sized human with so much attitude.

We lived in a pent-house on the 11th floor.
Best view in Lima, we had a pool in the apartment block.
In 1999, I left her in the room playing with Polly-Dolls,
And that’s when she climbed up to the open balcony door

It takes Corona waves,
For the world to stop crying.
If you listen closely,
maybe you will also embrace the silence.

Would you still love this land after it has been destroyed by those who claimed it as their own?
        
Would you still fight to protect it, after they burnt the wheat fields and the green canopies to the ground?
        
Would you still respect it, after time and again it has been cracked apart and exploited until there was nothing left to take?
        
Would you take pride in a forgotten land with no name?
     
Would you still wander the land, after it's soil has been poisoned by foreign nations?
        
Would you still look at this land with tenderness, after it has fallen in the hands of filthy pirates and conquerors?
        
Would you still find beauty in this land, after it's diamonds have been traded for stones?
        
Would you listen to the wind of this woman, that has nothing to offer but ruptured songs?

We have sank on the seesaw of the crossed wind

Words that flew omnipresently
With as much pain as damage

Each in their trench, huddled and clenching their fists waiting for the wind to cease.

The sun touches the corners of your small balcony window.
Only a few minutes of the day you feel the rays touching your skin.

The few other hours you skip between screens. Alternating between lives you haven't lived.

His tears, notorious by their turquoise hue of the Mediterranean coast.

His beauty was such, all the rainbows celebrated his existence.

Every morning in his company was a sip of the freshest Elixir.

Nobody told me that being an adult would be so lonely