Archive for August 28, 2011

Cats and dogs

I poured my love for you and it rained
in the street where the beer also died
Just a few moments we hold each other in freight
in a mist of not being sures.
And already we walked on, not in pace.
My step slower than yours.
When it rains, to me it still  pours.

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Housing shortage

The family we visited lived upstairs,
above another family never to be seen
except for their lines of laundry.
I was told not to walk around,
to not make a sound, they whispered.
They lived above the noisy level of the street
but far away from any heaven
as the place was damp and reeked.
And it felt weird to think
at little distance below my feet
some couple in their underwear
were having dinner.

regret

Moments later I saw you had left me
something on the kitchentable
And you were still whitin sight
slowely fading as it was foggy.
I should have waited to unwrap,
I missed the chance to see your
last moments thinking maybe
of us. Last chance to wave, cry you back.
All that for a box of candy.

Life continued

The calmth of the low tide
and the smell of dead jellyfish
were all gathered there accusingly
in a post orgasm moment of regret,
waiting for someone to
give the signal that it could
all start over again,
the flood and concur
of the waves on the land
and the child was there,
and it gave the sign.

I went to the beach

I went to the beach
to find your footprints.
They had not faded.
Left alone by the sea
not stepped on by others.
I stood there for hours on guard
so the sea wouldn’t steal them
from me.
I went to the beach
and I found you.

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