The Stillness of dreams

Picture : unknow source

Garden Of Loss

The body is long

The room is safe

feeling a name

has been printed

in our hollow eyes

Allows the voices in

pushing me out

i think we're dead

Don t look at me

this way

Feels like am made off clay

The day breaks

in bordom shades

of unknown outlines

standing in past hopes

and you know what?

we're not that fine

Abandoned and slow

i cross your ocean

and your gone

from all the things we ever saw

Water everywere

waves are now sowed

i think we better jump

You fly into arms

i never known

in the garden of your loss

point your fingers at us

and the time is speeding up

pushing us to dance

in empty spaces and

unwriten events, end

All i ever had was you

It s always been you

And my lungs hurt

from songs i cannot shout

i always feel am locked out

even when am in

there is never a in between

with you and me

that's all i've ever know

It's always been you

Picture: Ryan mcginley

Fo(u)r Months

I thought this time would be different

as time does not expend

from where i am

now yesterday and on

each of my breathing day

i wear a link

not known in profanous eyes

who hold the univers as tears

pass by

each cells are an exploding sky

and when i did close

my eyes with you

all i could see was

strange colors new

unknown, unmade,i see your face

tired and white, i can't

recall your voice tone

we re the song of oblivion

we're the love who belong

to millions colliding univers

while our bodys are thorn

in their world all reversed

nuturing everything i ve seen

the grey was never mixed

just a state of static connivence

wishing i could be in advance

i thought this time would be different

and am so sorry i coudn't be

here forever

am sorry for the months who's passed

while time stoped in my heart

am sorry i can't speak

keep on running cause i'm weak

i thought this time would be different.

Hysteria

I didn t wanted to hang up the phone.

I woke up screaming, blinded

irrational light shaping randomness

in my sleep: there s only loneliness

i didn t wanted to stop

his highway voice while

the face remain silent, like a

usless pantomime standing still

when the stage is empty

I woke up, hysterical

without knowing this we

was another anatomy

nutured for our cement city

i didn t wanted to stop talking

just because my heart was breaking

in millions different colored shades

i had lived through

and i thought

the sky gets darker too rapidly

for my love to see

or even for me

to remembeber why i

did grow colder and felt happier

in silent transparency

and the fear is always here

doesn't even need a reason

it lives within it's own passion

repetition: the letters remain unwritten

too many cigarettes to keep compagny

to these sleepless thoughts without mercy

so the body shakes like a dance

a forgotten moves shared only

in intimacy

when the world stop is hysteria

and calm help us to see

we run fast when we' re supposed to be

to early for what is yet unborn

in those early morning mourn

there is still time to smile

as the surface: we are

even the truth can be a liar

sometimes

in nights like this

i wish i wouldn't hang up the phone

some words are always a home

but maybe it is time

to leave the safety

of irrationality.

Picture: Nancy Holt

LEFT- a hand inside the night

I remember

You left blood on my finger

and

the ring wasn't even silver

as i thought it was at first

Reflected by opalescent

descending skies

It wasn't even silver

but made off

dry mud and broken dust

STILL

It was so dark when we

loved each other

so deep in this

silent encounter

I remember

You left one

single sound

to cover me all

Your kiss was the end

of a sun who on this land

never raised

You were the blanket

in my eyes

sparkling lonliness

in a quiet lie

you said:

we always need some green

mixed with tangerine

because we need

to imagine

sometimes the beauty

we never see

around our grey heartless

curves and highways

STILL

that finger is mine

despite my hollowness am fine

I remember you

smiling

while everyone else were sinking

you left a hand

inside the night.

Picture: unknown source

The Heavy Outline Before The Storm

The heavy outline before the storm

is putting to bed the petals, thorn

like little worn

the nest got curtains weaving

like the weather's music

on a calm evening

sunday burns the past ashtray

from one future smile to

crying yesterdays

it has fake its way

through sleeping awake

at a lover's ache

movement

clouds are low in their commitment

promising a new day

filled with wonder

their outline always cover

what is about to happen

and the wind make atonement

for all these shapes left apart

dancing dissonant

in the immensity of ignorance

in a eye close from its essence

the transparency of exponential

delight

stretching fingers grabbing mine

who is now evaporating

on a slow movement

the heavy outline before the storm

dancing dissonant

carried me home

Painting: Leonor Fini

Cutting Pieces Off The Moon

My hands hurts from writing thoughts i never send

i ve been cutting the moon

collecting pieces from the face i recall

am wondering in your room

like a ghost perpetually banging on the wall

I never thought i ll remain so much like cutting pieces

you are what hasn’t happen to me yet

while am perpetually the news from yesterday

and in your bed i always lay

my eyelash hurt from blinding myself

constantly

on my true intention

your voice is pulsing, your hands under tension

you love my neck while am collecting pieces

of the bones i hear cracking

melting in nights on sale

listening the rhythms going insane

My mouth ache from shaping words who hurts

cutting some part of the sky i wish

to collect for decorate

your dream’s corner

but you moan like a hooker

a distorted pleasure from

some still open wound

you collect pieces i never meant to offer you

and you box them in pride cause you own the nights

and what we drink are ancient knights

floating perpetually from

one frame to another

you never looked so familiar

than when i forget you, reshaping the taste of

everything who passes through

an obsessive

organ that never stop playing

constant stories who never happened

My feelings hurts from being filled with void

there is no bridge made with broken silence

you walked through desert streets dress up with indifference

while i have a glance on

my outline standing next to you

i don t want you, never did

i was just cutting pieces when you walked through

and now it feels like we are stitched

to yesterday’s sheets

i don t wanna see the morning who lays at my fits

offering is unmade body to my urge to escape from it

from you, from the scissors you took away

cutting pieces of the moon

that s when i think of you

Still: Georges Méliès