Dream Woman

evening
intoxicated as usual


wild music
and desires


a V of black swans
in blue


a poem or a song
or maybe,
the bride of the evening jazz


how do you feel
as we watch it together


and they answer
to our secret calls of destiny?


(I imagine bliss)


our thoughts meet
much to the silent agony
of the lemon earth


you chain me
with the final color
of the evening


and I stare at you
in wonder



as the November breeze
gives you an uneasy shiver
in the dark


dream woman,
are there still words stuck
inside your throat?


or why else
do you speak to me
through tears?


maybe,
I have lost my old style,


my old style of seduction
with masked words
of love in my mouth.