She's not looking for a fairy tale
No surprises to light her way
No showers of kisses on the face
All she asks, is for your time of the day

Your tenderness in a message
Your thoughts of her in a touch
Your love for her in a gaze

She is not asking for gifts
No need for anniversaries or fancy apologies
No reason for dinners and movies
All she asks, is for your time given freely

Your arms for safety
Your faith in her loving
Your happiness so she can be

Somewhere between cradle and grave.
Where sway is a true Libran.
Weights are shifted
back and forth
to keep a balance.
And I lost mine.
and tho my stance
tilts
as does a tip toe.
As a ****** walk way
over gushing flow.
Where externals
mimic
an outstretched horizon.
I’ll not be propped.
This is me.
This is me here.
This is me there.
Curious…

Make this mistake with me,
Just dive into us,
Because we are crystal clear,
We are blue water ocean deep,
I'll hold your other hand
discreetly.
I'll kiss your lips
on days He won't kiss yours.
And I'll hug you from behind
on days He got it all wrong.

Make this mistake with me,
Trust your heart my Libran goddess,
Because if all of me is what it takes
to sweep all of you off the ground
then I will come un-grounded,
undefeated, unfazed, unclothed.
Without the fear of the world
I will come to you
in the night.
I will fill the emptiness of your room,
with the snores of my palpable fingers
resting on the edge of the very shoulders
that is wrong for me to lay my lips on.

Make this mistake with me,
Listen to the voices you deemed untrustworthy, dishonest, unethical.
All your excuses to not do
should be set aflame.
He has nothing on you, nothing on me.
He Has Nothing.
Just fly up high with me.
Find a day where this forbidden fruit
can find a space where both of us
can reside and relive and redo
what we could have, should have, would have
done.
It's okay honey. All is not wrong.
You know you can trust me.
I know you want to trust me.

So make this mistake for you.
Nothing is forbidden
if you decide its permissible.
Make the mistake for me
and throw all our logic out the window,
out the door.
Throw all safety nets out to
His unwarranted sea.
Because although He has everything,
He is not everything.
He is not me.

And like how I've always been waiting,
I am here still
waiting for you
to slide over.

So slide.

He vuelto de la cita con cuatro alas de abejas
Prendidas en los labios. Cuatro alas de abejas
              Doradas y bermejas.

    ¡Milagro como el de la barba de Dionisos,
El dios de acento dulce! La barba de Dionisos
Que tenía cuatro alas de abeja en vez de rizos.

    Tus labios en mis labios derramaron su miel
Y brotaron las alas. Derramaron su miel
Y tuve las dulzuras de un panal en la piel.

    No riáis. Las cuatro alas de abeja no se ven,
Mas las siento en la boca. Las alas no se ven,
Mas a veces, ¡prodigio!, vibran hasta en mi sien.

    Y más adentro aún. Las dulces alas vibran
Hasta en mi corazón. Las dulces alas vibran
Y a mi alma de toda angustia y pena libran.

    Mas si un día dejaran de aletear y zumbar...
Si se hicieran ceniza... Si cesara el zumbar
De las alas que hiciste en mis labios brotar...

    ¡Qué tristeza de muerte!
¡Qué alas negras de queja
Brotarían entonces! ¡Qué alas negras de queja
En lugar de las alas transparentes de abeja!

Done are all the days when we
Will stare at the sky and shoot adoration
Dreaming we could take the moon home
And hang it by our window

Don't you see, darling
The clouds, they fall just the same every year
The sun too, sets just the same on every sea
So why would we think that
Ours is special

Done are all the days when we
Will blame the stars for our collisions
Says the Lunar Libran
To the Capricorn Moon that you are

This is what you wanted all along
I couldn't be wrong because the Moon told me so
The stars aligned and shone
Brighter that time when we sat
On that shore after sunset

Believe me, the night was longer
The heavens were darker,
Which meant the stars shone brighter
The night we said that done are the days
When we blame the sky for our mistakes

Sands drift downward,
Filling from empty to full,
A libran scale unbalanced,
Life on the fulcrum,
Which way it drifts,
Causes a life,
From empty to full,
Were it weighs?
Full of what?
Time will show.

En su grave rincón, los jugadores
rigen las lentas piezas. El tablero
los demora hasta el alba en su severo
ámbito en que se odian dos colores.

Adentro irradian mágicos rigores
las formas: torre homérica, ligero
caballo, armada reina, rey postrero,
oblicuo alfil y peones agresores.

Cuando los jugadores se hayan ido,
cuando el tiempo los haya consumido,
ciertamente no habrá cesado el rito.

En el Oriente se encendió esta guerra
cuyo anfiteatro es hoy toda la tierra.
Como el otro, este juego es infinito.

Tenue rey, sesgo alfil, encarnizada
reina, torre directa y peón ladino
sobre lo ***** y blanco del camino
buscan y libran su batalla armada.

No saben que la mano señalada
del jugador gobierna su destino,
no saben que un rigor adamantino
sujeta su albedrío y su jornada.

También el jugador es prisionero
(la sentencia es de Omar) de otro tablero
de negras noches y blancos días.

Dios mueve al jugador, y éste, la pieza.
¿Qué Dios detrás de Dios la trama empieza
de polvo y tiempo y sueño y agonías?

You used to read out our horoscopes
over lazy breakfasts with the Sunday rags.
We'd giggle at "romance in unexpected places",
mock "finances are on the rise",
the new moon always "brings profound changes",
and you'd say "hey, it's all just a load of rot".
While I'd sip my coffee in silent acquiescence,
I'd be secretly hoping that perhaps it was not.

When the stars aligned and brought about our conjunction
who could have foreseen what the fates had planned?
If only we'd known then what we know now,
we'd have seen the danger of uniting two sheep-headed rams.
Those signs of fire mistaken for warmth,
now signs of a love burnt out,
all that's left are dying embers
and my thoughts, full of doubts.

Fate, you had eleven other signs to choose from,
my bad luck you sent one like me.
Where-oh-where was soft, gentle Pisces?
Or dreamy-wet Aquarius?
Sweet, virtuous Virgo promising so much loving.
Or a well-balanced Libran stuck on her fence.
I have taken a Capricorn so, so capricious
or even a narcissistic Scorpio.
I mean, at the end of the day
how many times can you be stung?

No doubt you're now reading the stars over breakfast
with some more 'compatible' sign:
A two-faced, backstabbing Gemini,
a flat-headed Taurean bullock ***-machine,
a free-loving, hairy Sagittarian,
that oh-so-perfect-fence-balancing Libran,
or maybe some gorgeous, leonine Leo
has you wrapped up in his golden, free-flowing mane.

But I hope that when the Zodiac finally stops spinning,
your roulette wheel of life comes to rest on black,
and you land up with an ill-tempered decapod,
a hard-shelled, crustaceous, side-walking crab.

karmic eventuality
05/30/2021

filament of time had but frayed ends left,
as I approached the shores’ end by dark,
a silhouette, by the lantern’s dim light,
placed there, only, for my benefit to see

on approaching, I placed the one coin,
in the outstretched skeletal fingers, and
waded into the boat, that neither swayed
nor creaked, meant for but a lone passenger

with a gentle tug of his pole, sickle at top end,
the final journey across the realm had begun.
the stillness of the air, with not a whiff of wind
sensed in any direction, yet movement was there

now to reflect on times past, of spent years
length of journey, depended solely upon me
astrologically, scales have been my birth mark
balance, I shall, my actions, my deeds, indeed

by the time I dock, leave no doubts to ponder
there is no sense of dread, nor fear of forthcoming
Libran birth, a sort of calmness has enveloped
the scales of justice, the karmic eventuality