My soul is dancing on a pole,
Shameless you are! -
from near and far
Spirits whisper.

My cry is a single tear,
scrolling down
on my cheek,
My nervous tics,
As time ticks,
Disclose the fact
That I still care,
But I forgot what for.

My days are factored
by gloom and rain.
I still remain
Just breathing.

All of my wishes
Became surreal,
What should I go for
is a metaphor
for a fool I am.

Did I suffer and die
without knowing,
Thus, am I touring
through Hell?

Should I exhale
Pains I hold
and seek salvation?
Can a creation
Find catharsis
While its soul dances
On the pole,
and I no longer exists?

Dance, you beloved baby-doll
of my angels and beasts!
Dance, you shameless...

I don’t know if you know
I carry you
in an involuntary sigh
in a constant exodus of yearning
and in the frantic deepness of all
nostalgic thought, shaking time and distance
to place me near you
in the closeness of your warmth
remembered

I carry you in sorrow
precipitated
in the absence of your voice
and in the memory of your rib cage molded
in the shape of ardent weakness
my embrace

I carry you, the braille at the tip of my fingers
life drawn in lines on my left palm
and in the carcass of calm interrupted
by the pounding of a heart’s ill-time

I don't know if you know, but
I carry you in the crown of memories consoled
and in the spine of excess
where I fall, between involuntary sighs
defeated
in your skin remembered
from the confines
of the heart