Friday, December 2, 2016

An Old Friend


I met an old friend 
From not too long ago:

Eclectic chats
Within unimaginable
shadows,
Of an artistic being
That I think I know;

Between shadows 
Of a nation,
In a leg that I 
cannot see. 

An undefined number
In her wrist,  
An inverted cross 
Crawling her forearm 

All of these and more, 
Between a green
And mustard 
Sweater,
There she was.

Her eyes piercing 
The light,
Her smile transcending
The atmosphere. 

Between this and that 
And a cat, 
And a walk
And more 
And nothing more. 

All suffices:
To imagine the shadow
In her back, 
That I cannot see;

The curtain,
The window,
The white alpaca 
Blanket,
Her skin,
And more 
And nothing more. 



The She-Butterfly

As if suspend by air The she-butterfly  Opened her winds, In her blue colors Light projected Every pixel of her being In every m...