" ... I woke up, and the birds flew away,
after having spent the night
in your soul..." Pablo Neruda
AND I WAKE UP IN THE SADNESS AND
Asleep in it I FLY.
I SURF AGAIN IN THE WORDS OF NERUDA AND AGAIN
I AM MADE OF SEA FOAM,
OF CRASHING GRAINS OF SAND,
DESERTS IN LOVE, OF ALGAE AND CHIMARIA.
IN MY PALMS I HIDE WORLDS
AND WOUNDS FROM WHISPERED RAINBOWS,
AND VERSES OF NERUDA,
AND STARS - EVENING LIGHTS
ON THE STEPS OF SLEEP,
AND SCRATCHES FROM CORALS
B HERBARIAS OF DREAMS:
OF SHELLS AND FLAMINGOES,
OF BREAKOUTS AND MISUNDERSTANDING.
AND AGAIN I MAKE SPELLS -
THERE, IN THE ROOMS OF THE BAY - WITH THE PINK BLOOD OF PELICANS
AND SPRINGS OF JASMINE ON THE WATERS.
ON THE DUNES - FORGOTTEN PERFUMES ...
MOONS IN MY PALMS!
AND TIDES - IN MY CHEST.