It felt like an absence
because I found myself
naked and in darkness
the wood on which I sat
the timid air
the swollen imagination
could I repeat
my lucky survival once again ?
together, wed-locked
to the void that excites
me, to the nothingness
that caresses me, to the silence
that disintegrates me
I would remain
somewhere, somehow
giving names to unknown
aspects of reality
imagining myself naked
or aroused
or isolated
or none of these
just then,
nowhere to be
found.
lost
They were there…
There they were, shattered
sidewalks murderous sidewalks
frozen in their disorder, fractured by black color
and had to reach down
and pain their unfeeling scars
but this is not about sidewalks,
it resembles that primordial awe
or the seven cold nights of tribesmen
it intimates with old necessity
and the heavy mist that kills without moving
because further down by the hollow blackness
of cracked sidewalks and rapid decay
desasosiego, was called once in Spanish
spontaneous hymns of indigent earth
shadowless religions with no clouds on their backs
noiseless disaster tamed by echoed habits
stepping beyond – further into hopeless air
and with it, the truth concealed
hidden encounters with the ultimate Inexplicable
certainly having probed the depths of terror
the animosity of rebellion and the flakes of solitude
in what seems like ages of torment and desasosiego
by the unknown light of trembling – hardened
frozen and broken like irrelevant sidewalks
forgiving the ancient errors of willing blindness
alone, amongst these detached blocks of cold cement
my finger slithered their gaps,
and call me mad, lost and nocturnal – again,
I was nowhere, in calm beauty:
my irrelevant isolation.