June

June

Say June

everything is properly named, rooted

in its own place, waiting

as precision instruments wait

for their measure

to happen

Say June, why do you nibble

your lips

with pudency

while others gaze

in awe

It just seems so simple; time

constructs rivers

full of water, the same water you

drink, June

            drink, June

the very same liquid

flowing in your hands, eyes, teeth

wetting your spring-purple-lips

orchestras rise from the deepest

ground -

their rhythm matter

an anchor to

love

Say June

would you give me a dancing

and she smiled

© José Coelho, 2015