JOURNEY


I want to live with you in some
Imaginary wood,
Among stones with their
Reddish wounds, where the
Turf has grown high in places,
Where the wind, heavy with
Ancient knowledge whispers its
Secrets to the descending
Stars.

I’ll work nights if necessary,
Play like a tambourine
In Esmerelda’s hand.
What we know comes to so little;
Solitude and the pure flesh of
Space, saturnine flowers sharing
Their brief moment, newly washed
Children and kingdoms of loneliness
Trapped in dark eyes.

Let me be a door, a box with
One key, a cloud of vermilion,
Flowering moons.
Just let me be, I see wave against
Wave break into rainbows if
Left to my senses.

I will dance like a priestess,
Forever eternal, in the back
Country of your forgotten mind.