You certainly are not aware

ofthis insane indifference

that I forever drag with me
like a disease.

 

You’ve never heard

an evening guitar
frighten my feelings,

when I imagined that
only your eyes were in love

with me.

 

Oh, those evenings

still fragrant of chiils!

You showered my lips

with a taste of honey

and bitter aimonds.

If I love you oniy,

it’s because I iost you

before the rooster sang.

At dawn, life
is a merchant shouting

that dreams dreams are,
and only the night
brings a smile to thoughts.

 

We used to wander

by hidden churches

to hear my craves

play notes

on ancient organs

like a bitter torture.

 

Nobody, Elizabeth,

nobody can really iove.

We can bite the flesh

and make it quiver

or lie exhausted

with passions quenched.

But to love?

 

Love is you,

now,

branded by time,

when, unwanted,

I implore you.

You’re peace and caress,

what I don’t have,

nor have ever had.

 

01-12-2011