Posts

XXXVI

XXXVI I study him seated by the window where he stands. Light-up the world , I think. You say: the sun is burning and close the pane.

Haiku

sangra el beso en tus labios de arcilla abrázame fuerte 
I just received notice that I will be honored with a contributor's copy of Clarion at Boston University.  This magazine is very much alive and working. http://www.bu.edu/clarion/14/

XXXV

  XXXV you stand by a window and sulk             I reassure you there is nothing to worry about your eyes sink to the ground as I walk away

XXXIII

XXXIII crystal clear, your young body in the sunlight still in its dream stage. I stop to pick-up your breath and hear other songs .

cristal roto

eres cristal roto que no estoy dispuesto  a recorrer

Cuerpos trazados en la arena

Cuerpos trazados en la arena tu y yo dispersos sobre el agua te miro en silencio y recuerdo la playa tus ojos color cielo y tu piel blanca derramada en mi boca

XXXIV

XXXIV a tear descends on daybreak in your benefit forgetfulness and passion remain tattered I swallow the tear in exile

Singularidad

Singularidad Se abre una muralla intangible. Suspenso entre la vacilante soledad queda pasmado un instante de infinita fortuna. Se cae la palabra, singularidad del ser, transformada en conciencia interrogante, máscara , facción, piedra, fuerza del agua, para volver al olvido y dejar de ser. 

XXXI

XXXI I leave you in the middle of your moment  I return to mine between the two of them, I set aside hope you leave loneliness and I go back to a name

XXX

XXX I glance at the mirror time makes us forget I continue a drop of blood reminds me my flesh still exists I stop and wait

XXIX

XXIX seagulls and waves approach to touch me but they’re not  you

XXVIII

XXVIII I am torn between you and your eyes monologue: that one divided by nothing equals infinity 

XXVII

XXVII you turn over to make love we embrace 

XXVI

XXVI After a plea, a  soft scream, I acknowledge the thump of your thighs on my back. We talk in whispers under a low light. It’s different this time , I think.

XXV

XXV I stop to pick-up your wasted voice it spilled on my right side you lean forward  in  silence

XXIV

XXIV I mold you but you chose your own dream you shatter if you only knew the answer.

XXIII

XXIII your whining  doesn’t sound like you  but like a voice  living inside  other voices 

XXII

XXII constrained motionless in your sleep I deposit time on your body always willing to wake-up you are my gift

XXI

XXI your young face is the line. I follow it, touch the point of departure when I go down and almost regret it.