Diagonal Spring

the poetry that remained...
(in my fingernails)
still hurts.

I cut the nerves
with the word
desire.

let myself be filled
for whom I love
and so I'm happy
in a simple way.

and if it wasn't just one more
spring.
(like this diagonally)
another one of those seasons,
difficult flowering rainy seasons.

a body (dissonant)
encrusted
of semi-precious stones
of the rinses of the planet...

the night passed recklessly
by us
the night passed
in a hurry
through the knuckles.

the night does not bother
with the size of our fears
the night runs and hastens in step
and passes like a bird
through the sky of our mouths.

night took over the space.
the night passed in distress
by us
and left it in the eyes
the first light
of the day to come.

why make so much fuss
if I never needed anyone
to tell me what burns me
or where the sun goes down
in an orange late afternoon...


PAR