Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Dream Woman

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?

I have lost my old style,

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

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