He observed
her closely,
long enough
to see the
emotion
and raw
human in
her eyes,
he was the
one to hold
her hand when
the heart fell
apart, as the
moon went into the
bed of the sea,
he held her closer
In his blanket,
as she wept
close to his
chest, he told
her these
words,
“close your
eyes and sleep,
the sun will
rise, and the
world will
change
for you
tomorrow,
as the
petals
opening
every
season
to meet
the love
of the sun.”
In silence,
the lovers
then slept,
as the night
sang it’s
clandestine
symphony,
the heavens
whispered
her voice,
“would you
write on
your palms
the words
of how much
I love you?
If only you
knew of the
butterflies
coming
alive in
these eyes
when you
speak of
my name
with your
smile of
dimpled
stars,
In dreams,
you will
dance
with me
tonight,
as we
come
and go,
with the
lights
swimming
In our eyes,
more lucid
than our
musing,
the lines
and faults
of who I
was fade
Into the
warmth
of your
arms
as the
wings
of a
angel,
I, the
flower
of the
desert
who
waited
for the
gardener,
found
the soft
of your
breath,
I asked
for a drop
when you
gave me
the ocean,
I am forever
grateful to
you, the salvation
whom has shown
how I will love
once more.

A song played on the radio
She cried softly

I saw her tears
Fell from her eyes
Down to her cheeks

I collected her broke heart parts
Glued them together with love
Pulled her in my arms
Whispererd in her ear

Do not cry my little girl
Let me change your bad memory
Into a beautiful one.

with
springs
attach
to
their hooves
redtail gazelles
dash bounce skip hop
as
high as
the
pink cotton candy clouds
through
the
drumbeat sky

Sometimes, I am a paper girl.
I look in the mirror
To judge my blotches and creases-
I am a pale, thin tissue
That bows to the howling wind
Transparent for anyone who cares enough to look.

If you like pretty pictures, I'm the one for you-
A roll of film scratching laughs
On curious cinema screens
That could run into infinity
Just to fuel your smile.

I soak up your messes willingly:
All the colours that bleed and mix
To form the specks of sadness
In your eyes at 10.p.m
And the grass stains that roll
Down your bare gypsy feet
And the sunflower seeds
That stick to your inky lashes-
These things give an echo of the flavour
I miss.

I am vain
I regularly conjure up poetry on my skin-
Do not give me yours.
I will recite it to my last paper breath
So I can kid myself that paper is power.

I am not the phantom you teach to play piano
Under the helter-skelter moon,
I am far too fragile for that-
My paper cut fingers bend
And bleed light all over the keys.

My hands are a canvas
For anyone's ***** details
For if enough titles are painted on my body then perhaps
I will learn the complex trick
Of gaining depth

And maybe the world will look as full
And real as I read in books
And dance with in music
And maybe my edges will stop being ripped
Or my corners cut
Or my pages burned and tossed aside.

Sometimes, I am this tiny
Vulnerable
Origami creature
And my cream card bones tremble like feathers
A bad caricature of life.

Sometimes I am full of wonder-

But right now, I am this.

Reach out your hand, take me into your palms
for one second or a minute of the leaking time,
listen to the rhythm of my heart from reckless Brahms
losing me in the labyrinth that touches me with its eye.

Open my heart's buttons to see its full nakedness,
loving me as if tomorrow morning you would lose the bets,
give him a spark, for his passion to reanimate, making us
forget about you, about me, about all our regrets.

Take me into that chamber bathing in the nuances of fire,
take the body that now is incapable of self-control,
let the music in the background comfort my hearing and inspire,
waiting until the ice melts in my heart and my soul.

Love me with a body that no longer thinks of anything new
bearing the mark of an acute and fine sensuality of a dove,
enveloped by the appetizing flavour that worries you
in this ritual of the pantomime from the game of love.

Dare me with your fingers that traces on my shoulders
lines that for a few moments are burning me, consuming me
with the intensity of the eye that fixes me, it marks me,
making me lose the last morsel of my mind, foolishly.

I would not resist your spontaneous urge to touch my bust
with your penetrating glance or emotions, awakening, letting me be,
with a burning temptation that's not extinguishing that crazy lust,
nor under the breath of night that would sneak in unconsciously.

you move me
the way
music moves you
the vibrations
on the chords
of  your guitar
tell me how
your day went:
spilled lemonade
on your favorite sweatshirt
and 3 bonus points
on a clicker quiz
i'm not caught
in the essence of firsts
like 30 extra minutes
to kiss you in
real time
your dark features and
unfaltering movements
evolve like
the sounds of me loving
you
composed of your stiff-fingered
electricity and a continuation
of all the good
things

I, the earth, have been neglecting my soils

//