I am looking for measured, priceless
illusions
that woke up in your embrace
the day before yesterday.
I need empty meanings to outline
the laws of fate,
the sparkle of useless pedestals.

I close tomorrow's dream wide open -
I open the window
to find an escape route.
In love to limits of the universe,
deceptive like a drop of pain -
I cling to your tenderness, so insignificant
that sky lies at my feet,
I lose the plastic cross somewhere
along the way.

I spread fear, I explain myself to God
with my firstborn words. I am sadness
that no one here is waiting for.

Simplicity and illusion
are replicated in me -
I will saturate the dry soil of your lips
with tears. I remember all time fiercely -
a cry outlines
trajectories of wrong orders.

It is just a pair of mismatched hands.
It is a plea for future that I cannot
reconcile myself with.

I am returning from beyond the border
of your smile. I am, although
silence complains about
the excess of existence.

I am close enough to sleep to escape
this tachycardia, this too abundant forgetfulness.
Kinship with time makes bells fall silent,
commands unite,
lies harmonize with truth.

I have fallen in love with opposites
so vast that the heavens fall
to their knees, the Earth festers like
a fresh wound.

I bow pitifully at the sight
of your borrowed answers, I delight in
the infinity of sold questions.

Unprepared, yielding to your naked heart,
I collide with the wall
I built to hide my life from myself.
There's a bit of remorse and madness
lurking in your undressed tears;
I pay with sadness for
the right to longing.

Too humble to resurrect fear, I struggle
with your past, with complaints about
your too mundane future.

spirals weaved within the fabric of eternity
you can try shouting your way out
punching through to some other reality
some other place and time
be a hero everyone loves to hate
because you escaped
and every moment you stay free
they love to hate you all the more
because their spiral leaves no room
to be pleased for your success.

Poetry is the gateway to my healing
as eyes are the window to the soul