Il Postino

il-postino

 

the dampness gets to me.
and stars in your hair…
a sudden silvery wave.
makes me sob out loud.

spreads like a butterfly.
his mouth is full of spells.
the mark of its seditious saliva…
guarantee me a pearl in each one.

and you’re on your back.
In blue, in foam, in a gallop…
in complete solitude…
It spills over from time to time.

Notebook?
is the experience of feelings
Do you think he’d cross it out
so much sea.

You have moon-lines, apple paths.
you taught me to use my tongue
as lacerating as a hymen.
(Turns Off Tape)

One stroke of his finger
is like a fire with two flames.
as in a land of forests, or in a surf
repeating its own name.

stay on it all night…
it caresses it, kisses it, wets it…
Waves. Big ones.
came about.

“impenetrable, like a felt swan…
contorted by terrible hardship…
from his neck like roses.
holding the leash of blood

I also want to tell you
(Distant Dog Barking)
of Our Lady of Sorrows…
smooth, terrestrial, tiny…

I’ll miss you.
and trace your outline…
in your hair.
Put it in my pocket, please.

I found this in her brassiere.
round, transparent.
as nights on an island…
Sad.

as one of your hands…
There are vines and stars
striking a stone
and his blood gushed

If you hadn’t come into my life…
Yes, with the window open.
I’d tremble whenever she spoke.
I want to stay sick.

“Naked…”
He will not be able to leave
comes only once a month
Like the sea.

I watched her and fell in love.
Like being on the shores
Like a boat tossing
you’re absent.

once every 50 years…
can you write me
Not a word, not a greeting
Naked, you are blue

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