words create worlds
‘Sadness looks so beautiful on you!’ your voice had spoken, an alluring smile lifting your face. I didn’t know I wore a dress. I wondered why. Maybe too vulgar is the laughter or the day, the happiness too rare, so large the holes of fabric, my striped skin they reveal, its cuts and scars well
The black dot trembled. The dot of life. History I could see in your eyes, dust raining on my arms, those arms of fire now lost in time rusty wings are to become. The black dot quivered. The dot of death. The same old wind carrying us both into the whirl of seeking, spiraling cries
Impeccable silk walking through the carbon cars aligned in static red at traffic lights, Chekhovian silhouette veiled in a cream-colored-blouse, a seagull’s flight over the cities’ web of wires and withered flowers offered for a coin. A surreal flash dove through my trembled flesh. How could I know you hid under her furrowed skin the
through the middle of your heart
(bound to the stone of oblivion)
nothing is left but dancing with the willow tree beneath the wings of nightingales the space of tales for butterflies; a breeze I crave to be. becoming one one with the air an unexpected dissolution of my flesh its holes, the empty space in every atom of my body the I am, the being
Worlds of Words 