lunedì, febbraio 20, 2012

Hello, we cannot read, what You wrote by hand. I think, You took a pencil? Is it an order now? If we don't hear anything, we send the things oN Monday.

 
This is for you
it is my full heart
it is the book I meant to read you
when we were old
Now I am a shadow
I am restless as an empire
You are the woman
who released me
I saw you watching the moon
you did note hesitate
to love me with it
I saw you honouring the wind-flowers
caught in the rocks
you loved me with them
At night I saw you dance alone
on the small wet pebbles
of the shoreline
and you welcomed me into the circle
more than a guest
All this happened
in the truth of time
in the truth of flesh
I saw you with a child
you brought me to this perfume
and his visions
without demand of blood
On so many wooden tables
adorned with food and candles
a thousand sacraments
which you carried in your basket
I visited my clay
I visited my birth
and you guarded my back
as I became small
and frightened enough
to be born again

I wanted you for your beauty
and you gave me more than yourself
you shared your beauty
this I only learned tonight
as I recall the mirrors
you walked away from
after you had given them
whatever they claimed
for my initiation
Now I am a shadow
I long for the boundaries
of my wandering

and I move
with the energy of your prayer
and I move
in the direction of your prayer
for you are kneeling
like a bouquet

i n   a   c a v e   o f   b o n e
b e h i n d   m y   f o r e h e a d
and I move toward a love
you have dreamed for me
.


AGRADAVA-ME MAIS A VERSÃO DIGITADA COM ERRO, QUE TRAZIA ARTIGO NA FRENTE DO OSSO.  'VOCÊ? VOCÊ MORA É ATRÁS DE *UM* OSSO, O OSSO QUE EU SEI, O OSSO QUE HÁ DE SE QUEBRAR, MAS SEM A SUA VONTADE. O OSSO PULVERIZÁVEL, MAS QUE, BOLSO-COFRE, INDA SE MANTÉM MACIÇO. E ESCURO.'
    

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