The Desire
A
quarter to midnight
(…
and warming up) >> remove!
one.
I can
feel its smell arriving
I lift
the eyelid of my self and
allow
me heading for an unknown
area
while
observing
its
dedication
its
movement
heading
for the silvery horizon
I move
on
hands
behind the back
sand-like
but not
yet.
The
virgins quench them selves
on the
left and on the right
glitteringly
atop little pieces of hysteria – the color of milk, but cream
far,
far away
the sea
with nothing to lose
repeats, desperately
until one inconceivable
the sea
with nothing to lose
repeats, desperately
until one inconceivable
exhaustion
I feel,
its
odor
arriving – water-like
at my
warm
faces
and the
virgins loosen them selves and rise spreading light and sand
cloud-like,
of so
dense,
white
and
high
two.
Lightweight
tottering
voracious
I get torn apart by a cry of happiness that I can't
break
voracious
I get torn apart by a cry of happiness that I can't
break
three.
Nothing,
it was nothing
I say to myself and repeat
I say to myself and repeat
without
realizing
the meaning
of nothing
(they were just some virgins
passing by – bewildering me
with their warm tips)
© José Coelho, 2015
Original 1st draft 15-June-2007
the meaning
of nothing
(they were just some virgins
passing by – bewildering me
with their warm tips)
© José Coelho, 2015
Original 1st draft 15-June-2007
