*
A rush to the street
buses crossing
the other way
confusing
.
on the other side
a walk made of millions of breaths
thousands of steps
hundred of thoughts
.
and one worry
being there on time
.
one more
if I may tell the truth
hiding
.
behind rules of
“being respected”
where are you?
.
.
Can’t get a moment
with myself without
missing you
.
can’t understand
the truth by talking it
out with others
.
can’t make myself
fathom the shape of your
days any longer
.
while you are
busy
.
burying me
in silence
.
without hands
and no one
word
.
written or uttered
nor gesture nor
nor
.
nor and without.
.
.
you say it is the way it has to be
ourselves among others
others among many
us as many
not us
you
.
.
*
.
It’s the silence -not spoken emptiness
the salty sea caviar sun and iced drinks
all these ones all these chatter
where I left my anchors
while my body seals
wrapped in your gaze
liquid
I found you in the sea you’re
never gone.
.
Roots
I inquire
to a rubber tanned face
breathing the sky in.
.
I long I linger
rolling
veins pumping
to my heart.
Life.
.
– June 28, 2010 –
.
.
**
Becomingly,
cheeks high up
there shapes
of sharp intellect,
far away
.
melancholy of a country
not my own
calling my name
.
I wrinkle to cry
I do not understand
nor can tell but I feel
you.
.
– June 2010 –
.
.
***
So close.
Slightly open
lips inviting
breathing out
a call to the soul.
.
I love as a first
my face so close
reflected and dark,
lively rubbery, I can read
my own eyes.
.
– June 2010 –
.
.
****
In that place
sacred
ground shared
cuddling was with imagination
too sacred for a flow
even water
scared
by the holiness of the moment
trickled
a few syllabus at a time
pauses
as still rocks
as with branches a full tree
on a concrete square
could not reach the roots
its sap
is for another time.
.
– June 2010 –
annamosca 