mort mot juste

outubro 26, 2008

and yet we recall the senses

lips sown shut
by life

running along
roaring rivers
scattering rice
like confetti
into a sea of dumb newlyweds

your eyes shed a muddy light
and breathe out your last pair of words

vagueness in your fingers
your tongue touches incoherences
i see a certain nervous root
the stuff that holds you together

enclosed by a valley you pick out a scent
unmisted by tulip bulbs you could rise
as a full bottle of tiny gems
darling blind amulets in your aging hands

maria 1:41 PM 1 vociferando estavam

outubro 17, 2008


truth is rare
it's in a silent crab
some foam and
dry seaweed

words are not true
they're made of air
to air return

don't trust a sound
two for a pound

they dry so sweet
stick to the glass
wind strucks too cold
so long
they pass

maria 9:31 PM 4 vociferando estavam

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