Calendar of an Invisible April
The wind was whistling continuously, it was
getting darker, and that distant voice was
incessantly reaching my ears : "an entire life"...
"an entire life"...
On the opposite wall, the shadows of the
trees were playing cinema
It seems that somewhere people are celebrating;
although there are no houses or human beings
I can listen to guitars and other laughter's which
are not nearby
Maybe far away, within the ashes of heavens
Andromeda, the Bear, or the Virgin...
I wonder; is loneliness the same, all over the
Almond-shaped, elongated eyes, lips; perfumes stemming
from a premature sky of great feminine delicacy
and fatal drunkenness.
I leant on my side -almost fell- onto the
hymns to the Virgin and the cold of spacious
Prepared for the worst.
LATE MIDNIGHT my room is moving in the
neighborhood shining like an emerald.
Someone searches it, but truth eludes him
constantly. How to imagine that it is
That death too, has its own Red sea.