YOU WERE THERE

 

Your love was an ancient bird that nested in Saturn's abacus, between my mind and my chest, where I still sleep. It is not that your love is a prison. Not from my body, not even from my soul and spirit, free are your wings. And they flew without warning, to a sky I don't know. There are no hostages of love between my arms and my legs, between thoughts and desires, only the improvisation postponed until today, of waiting for you for a thousand years, and if I knew how to draw, to my thoughts, there would be an eternal seventh wave scalding, cold, on my knees, foaming at you, if I, if you, if we, if we, if the sea between us were narrower, if you had not left, if the dreams that descend through the soul to my body,  Where you descend and grow in longing, nothing of you is dead, in that strait between your neck and my chest, awaken the eternity that they extinguished in the aimlessness of lovelessness, if your mouth dwelt in me, pronounced the name of all things lived with the memory of who I am, your mouth would be flooded with nectar that would quench my thirst for you, your river would make me bed,   in times of desert; If I could hold you, just one more day, that day would be fertilized for a lifetime, my love, for how much I wait for you! I wait for you at night, inside and outside my dreams, inside and outside my body, inside and outside the spirit that climbs the universe, like a heron in the western sky, on the shore of this cove, I would voluntarily leave the dreamlike way of suffering your absence, non-existent to the gaze that always keeps you in mind. I am in favor of all forms of solitude when one loves. That when we love, we are never alone! And in my thoughts, thou swift bird, flutter between my breasts and gag with my hair any and all executioners! If you listened to me, if my voice sang in the clearing between your chest and your mind, heaven would be urgent to you, from the bank of the river you would see the bed of the strait where you fail me and are absent from me! It was the improvisation that stole from you, a jolt and made everything from you, except your body, all life remained, here, paling my dresses, my moods and even the days that drag on, like torpor, discolored like my complexion, as no one has done, as one should not do to anyone! If you felt me and knew, you could set up oases on the dry and burnt flanks of the firs, on the tongue of the desert sands, if you wanted me, if I woke you up, or if I saw you coming, if I could, you would be a king and your throne guarded all these years would be equipped and washed by the foam of your waves! If you dream me, I'll be there, by your side, lying among thistles and roses, among the water lilies and the lotus flowers, where tailors and diamonds insinuated themselves into the round waves and the creative chords of a piano framed this dawn. 

I stood up, between pages of enormous memories, I kept everything, your faded face, my gone, as if living proof that allows you to erase the pain and here you are radiant, virtuous and dazzling, The curtains open time, the lights come on. You, in a majestic robe, enter, bow to the spectators and sit on the bench, and from your fingers emerge the chords of the requiem dedicated to someone, and as I close my eyes, I hear myself lost, stripped naked by you, the universe is arranged in applause, from the scene of the past, behold, you appear, whole and anointed and you are a simple chord and a sophisticated symphony,   musical creation, I take refuge inside again, you ride a white horse, you address your love to me,  But my love, it's all an old dream of mine.