Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Other Things (Encore)

I have my heart in place: placed somewhere,

everywhere,

it does not make any difference,

And as my thoughts are everywhere,

able-bodied,

in all spaces and moments,

Inside a smaller room than used to,

or they used to play around,

I can only write and think,

More like the other way around,

He makes me feel and assume,

Carve and reflect,

yet I have them now:

my own words

(too many, I see)

I sense.



I have my heart in place: placed in my mouth,

As I say what I deem, shame is the one thing I constantly sense and fear,

sense hence fear,

there,

a stomachache while I endure on honesty,

and hope for a better answer,

there,

I tremble between my nose and my chin,

Just one answer,

to relieve that visceral dread of waste,

that instinctive fear,

said,

My own vulnerability:

my thoughts out loud,

when words come out of my mouth,

there,

between my nose and my chin,

where my heart is placed,

not that deep within.



My heart is in place: inside me.

I am still the only person around me,

Listen,

There,

Coming from that place,

There, before my chin,

Because I keep my heart in place,

wherever it must,

wherever I now and again do not desire it to be,

because I fear to feel,

I fear the confusion.



A heart pulsing inside my mouth,

My heart pulses,

He forgets,

it pulses and bleeds.



And here comes his kiss,

Razorblades in the tip,

His love,

Laid there, between his fingers and his fist,

his tongue in my mouth,

a kiss,

with razorblades in the tip.



His tongue in my mouth,

there where lays my heart,

it pulses,

he kisses my mouth with sharper razorblades,

it bleeds,

his kiss,

still his kiss.



His love,

Laid there, between his fingers and his fist,

He loves my face,

He loves me with razorblades and his fists,

He loves me when he’s down,

He loves me while I hold on to a tear,

Tightly hold on to a tear in my hand,

But I,

While, with my heart in my mouth,

Ask him to love me nice,

To hold me tight,

frosty nights, tonight,

hold my hand,

with that,

what’s between his fingers and his fist,

but he loves me with sharp razorblades in his tongue,

and his fists,

But I,

While, with my heart in my mouth,

Ask him to sing me in the nights,

These are frozen nights;

To love me nice,

Touch my hand,

to share time and space,

these are lonely times,

because he loves me with sharp razorblades in his tongue,

he kisses my mouth,

there, there, where my heart lays,

with a tongue surrounded by razorblades,

While I continued to ask him,

Darling kiss my heart,

Where it lays,

There, there,

only,

With a sugar coated tongue.



You have been so cold by dusk



Darling,

kiss my heart,

Where it lays,

There, there,

With a sugar coated tongue.



a.b.v.n.

1 comment:

W. said...

"como diría trent: only".

w.