Southern Memos, VI - To Be Adaptable

Southern Memos, VI - To Be Adaptable

Her index finger pressed something

dark, with precision, pushing it

gently into the ground

which immediately adjusted it self

to absorb the alien body

with safety and

almost pleasure

one could even think of

mastery within nature's

slowness

much as around ebb

everything felt perfect and dormancy

ruled over

desire

The oval form - metallic blue -

reappeared on the surface, emerging

as a bubble in

water

her index finger

waited

then applying the same

direction and strength

reinforcing her

will

to make the beetle

disappear

from sight

Ideas rolled

unexplored

leaving room for nothing and

I could perfectly see him

cleaning

each drop of water, resting on

the kitchen

sink

again and again

as if a game was

taking place – maybe it was! -

there was a tap

leaking

just above my face -

sweat drops moving

across her fields -

though each single drip

fell on the sink

[ it kept him busy ]

neither the beetle nor

her index finger seemed

frustrated or tired – they both

felt fit for each other

and went on.

© 2016, José Coelho