you arrive as expected - legendary. a beautiful white horse: leaves behind brothers of salt and sisters of foam, unrecognized, meets the morning mist on a shore close to home; astride it: you - the lost king returned, almost divine, here to answer the calls of those who still sing your name faithfully to the heavens; at the beach: me – barefoot on the rocks, waiting, watching you approach me, confused – your journey through the mysteries: unimaginable… you halt. i aim. you breathe the bullet and fall.
I woke early this morning in Lisbon before the birds chirped the traffic shattered the silent room in the Sao Bento Guesthouse and the old tram struggled, groaned up the steep hill
She stirred beside me even and measured breaths I turned on the white light and read Pessoa and Florbella Espanca poets of the past of the hilled city split poetic personalities the one she, the other, a killer of her self
"Abre os elhos e encara a vida!" advice not taken
today we'll walk those hills ride those trams and eat seafood along the Tagus as we ignore the passing of our lives
One last look for Lisbon Let it seep into my heart One last wistful wish that I was back again at the start I was a girl then Wondering how to do my hair I am a woman now Heavy heart frayed with wear One last look for Lisbon Windows glow from the sunrise The air feels full of magic I am much more alive I want to take a picture So I pull out my phone But no, I don’t need a photograph Just this feeling in my bones
A tract can be coined a cake and love of her biosphere but me in Doeville shall rupture her mandrake those herds of desert shores with a torch will believe in me azores when shy of antrorse gypsies rebel there as Jugendstil has accomplished Sezession well eat lark in Catalonia