Helping stone - Comfort - N/N

Helping stone

 

 

 

To Juan Gustavo Cobo Borda
for awakening my corpse
which flourished with desire

 
to the limit of the pit
the vineyard and the sign
in fear of not transcending
as nectar
as aria

piously use up their skin
until the point of pain

-last certainty-
in order to confirm themselves
that they still exist

while others copulate
with the rancid taste of the yawns

of those
who dry up

.
[From the book: Strictly haphazardly]


 

Comfort
-from New York to Soho-

 

no hero no virgin
over the longing white
the shadow of his hand
flowed over itself

while the touches
reaching his elusive body
did not impregnate the kernel

frugal
in absence he captured it

silent
he migrated it away from human curses

he accompanied himself with moon
it happened that he needed it

he woke up drunken with light
with his own night

to make darkness barefoot
his own darkness

-she was no Hollywood deity-
.

 

[From the book: Strictly haphazardly]


 

N/N

It won’t be winter
that receives you
nor the blanket in a bed

it will be a bunch of withered flowers
attempting in a kiss
to elude the ice

-perhaps some greens
will venture to appear

with its silence

 

[From the book: Strictly haphazardly]


 

Published @ poetasdelmundo.com