She sees him soaring through air,

his hair dangling on her face, his unbounded soul

writing her poems of beauty and blooming grace.

She sees his face, his unseen face.

She feels his heart beating in her hands,

a satin rose courting her palms as

she got lost in the dark silence of the stars.

He knows her scars, her unrecognized conserved


She touches his songs, she embraces his fire,

weaving the threads of desire in the infinite night,

whispering his unheard name, dying in fizzy flames

of doubt and pain, sowing dreams in the rain.

She feels him so close, so close, so close.

She bows, she flows, she knows

the borders that separates her from herself

but he made her barriers fell, he was in her,

he is still in her, he is inside her, she is wrapped

around him but he can't hear her sighs.

But he can't hear when her soul cries.

She lost her gates, he closed her doors.

He left her haunted shores as she fell from

his languageless clouds.

Her strictured, untamed soul cracked again.

But she is used to gag her despair.

Scratches, scars and wounds are

not bleeding burdens difficult to bear.

-is is a collapsing cliche?-

What her meaning does not tolerate

is the memory of her hands searching

for his words to pull her from the ground


What suffocates her is his ever expanding

light , the one she felt beneath her skin

and still pulsates within.

Karla Bardanza

No comments:

Post a Comment