I was with the wind
I leant on your home in the notion,
And lived reinforced concrete up from your home.
My verandah was one with broken lips,
I looked down upon a long field of apologies
I looked down upon drafts of autumn.
And the countryside was wavering due to the wind,
And almond set its traps for whatever stirs phantasms.
Alone recalled the footprints its reminiscences;
A moon inhaled with the intimacy of a mother checking her sleeping children’s bedcover;
And the beings lulled their sleep and stroked the pillows of vacancy.
The horn of wind blew its larynx
With every bit of silence there was in the village’s chest,
Lighter than air
Heavier than wind.
The neon scratched its glass from within.
Kittens of thoughts mistook the wind for a wool ball,
And they liked it so much they felt cold.
A lone cat outside,
With no attitude against the howling of wind.
I was preserving the meowing
So I won’t startle the subdued country.
The birds zipped up their sleeping bag,
Fixed up cinnamon tea
And ironed their flight in case a clearness should occur tomorrow
Sleep almost wore its woolen socks
And went to bed in me,
But some purr awoke it.
And I was with the wind
Narrating the hearing to the neighbors’ dreams,
Checking the braids of the neighborhood’s girls_
And nothing tired us
The sea and the wind
Have broken up, long ago, from a miserable relationship.
And whenever the sea drinks excessively,
It goes making all this fuss:
“I loved you.
I loved you, even if for a moment.
Yet one more dance,
For the sake of what we had.”