Desejo, desire -- Mag 172

As she unlocked the door,
a thousand black stars fell from her heart.
She couldn't
but she did.

Behind stained glasses,
he looked at her,
thinking less than he could.

Nothing would ever be said
about that day
and it would burn his sibilant heart
for the rest of his life.

She left as if she had never been there.
He stayed for some minutes,
gazing at the memories
that were already beginning to sprout without
his poetic license.

He thought about a word in English
to express what he was feeling.
Why was he thinking in Portuguese?
Words racing his mind.
Things he couldn't tame,
he would never tame.
A confusion under his skin.

Desejo, desire.

Sometimes he looks back,
and she is still there

Karla Bardanza

Copyright©Karla Bardanza 2013 Photobucket


  1. This is a beautiful poem..full of lovely images..

  2. This poem has lovely images. The man may now be only realizing the value of the lady who left only after she's gone. Too bad for him, but maybe great for the lady who left the man with the sibilant heart. :-)


  3. ... 'Desejo' is a beautiful word.