This salt
in the saltcellar
I once saw in the salt mines.
I know
you won't
believe me,
but
it sings,
salt sings, the skin
of the salt mines
sings
with a mouth smothered
by the earth.
I shivered in those solitudes
when I heard
the voice of
the salt
in the desert.
Near Antofagasta
the nitrous
pampa
resounds:
a broken
voice,
a mournful
song.

In its caves
the salt moans, mountain
of buried light,
translucent cathedral,
crystal of the sea, oblivion
of the waves.

And then on every table
in the world,
salt,
we see your piquant
powder
sprinkling
vital light
upon
our food. Preserver
of the ancient
holds of ships,
discoverer
on
the high seas,
earliest
sailor
of the unknown, shifting
byways of the foam.
Dust of the sea, in you
the tongue receives a kiss
from ocean night:
taste imparts to every seasoned
dish your ocean essence;
the smallest,
miniature
wave from the saltcellar
reveals to us
more than domestic whiteness;
in it, we taste infinitude.

'So you want to be a writer' he says.
As a smirk quirks his lips.
'Actions speak louder than words son,
has no one ever said that to you?
It's not about words, it's about what you do.'

I'll admit in my mind a stereotype starts to form.

It seems like he's posing just standing there,
With his short cut blonde tipped hair and
Beard neatly trimmed.
Muscled like he spends way too much time in the gym.
There's gold round his neck like rejects from the Mr.T Collection
He keeps adjusting himself like he has got a semi-*******
A mans man it could be said
I wouldn't say that i'd just call him a *******

'I've got better things to do than read words and rhymes,
It's all just a waste of my time,
I've never even read a book.'
He says with with some pride
'I'm a man of action, why write?
I just say what I want to say,
Frankly I think writing and poetry is a bit gay!'

I feel the bile rise in my throat,
I close my eyes,
Count to ten,
Suppress the urge to stab him with my pen.
Then calmly I begin.

'Words hold so much power, words can inspire,
words can bring tears to your eyes
Or set your heart on fire.
You say actions speak louder than words, I disagree.
With actions you can be great,
If you go hell for leather.
But with just a few words you can live forever.
Words can paint pictures in the mind,
Give you strength that you couldn't find.
When you're down and losing the fight,
don't you just want to hear the words
'Everything is going to be alright.'
People find ways to express themselves to those they hold dear,
With ostentatious shows of affection.
There are millions of things that they can do,
but does any of it carry more weight than a sincere 'I Love you'?
Don't get me wrong words can be harsh:
Sticks and stones can break your bones but words can break hearts.
I love words and I love to write.
You can think i'm gay.
You can laugh and scoff.
If that's your opinion.
I've got two words for you.
*******.

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine