11.12.18
Lincoln, NE
poco a poco, por lo general jueves en la tarde
o sábados al mediodía, me curaste una rodilla
la paciencia de tus dedos y el calor de tus pausas
obraron su típica magia en cuestión de instantes
todo era instantes en tu diariovivir, tu procesión
por las esquinas estallando a colores y deteniéndote
ante los desbocados, los que han perdido todos
sus colores, la ralea de inconformes y doblados,
pero sedientos de eso que destilas con tanto cuidado
y difundes con una profunda calma oceánica
andrea taconea las aceras y retumban los pasos
concatenan las miradas y reposan las palmas
las manos y la insistencia digital que palpa
y diagnostica, incisiva y contundente, como
suelen ser los contactos decisivos que sorprenden
con la luz de un nuevo día asomándose por encima
del espejo roto, óptica que triplica los misterios
y suaviza la sombra desos ojos achinados por el viento
lo que recuerdo de ti es lo que perdí:
la vergüenza, el miedo, la culpa, la pregunta
lo que olvido en tu ausencia es el descanso
la luna, la respuesta, la sensación del frío
lo que sí sé es que por alguna irresistible sinrazón
una noche sin luna compartimos nuestros secretos
27.8.18
Title TK
You told me I was like a year abroad
A place where you grasp the rudiments of speech, but still have to gesture a lot. There are those who stare awkwardly, clock their heads to the side in grotesque obviousness. You can almost hear them gasp.
A place where you grasp the rudiments of speech, but still have to gesture a lot. There are those who stare awkwardly, clock their heads to the side in grotesque obviousness. You can almost hear them gasp.
I countered with a real injury, the unavoidable handicap: a limp, a slight reluctance. A deep breath. It is then that the cats appear, working their sparkly, static chemistry. My eyes are too lazy to take anything in anyways, but my ears never miss a beat.
Then Fall all over again. Leaflike, your foliage drops away, leaving you stark against the window, city lights licking your face, dancing in your eyes. I get it. But I let it go and go on. It will soon be too cold to stand outside, to walk everywhere we like. Maybe the snow will bury the smell of your effortless presence. It is the distinct fragrance of wanting it all in such a short time.
Decades will topple all over each other, making the passage of time labor intensive. It never works to look over your shoulder, it's hard to see the faces in those little paper squares. But it's so easy to hear you humming somewhere behind, where we last held it steady, as if the stakes couldn't have been higher. I can never quite put my finger on the exact tune.
From up here it looks perfect. I suppose the trick would be to fly.
Ready?
Watch me.
Ready?
Watch me.
27.3.18
la memoria es un arrecife
piedra recubierta de vida, de fuego, de mar
son los restos solidificados de lo acontecido
entre estertores de miedo y emoción, un clímax
solapado y traslapado entre la roca endurecida
de los remordimientos y la abundancia de los quizás
olas que murmuran todos los nombres y sus dos apellidos
el constante embate de un líquido agrio ya a estas alturas
pero que en su momento fue néctar, sustento, una suerte
de maná escurridizo - el fantasma detrás del espejo sonríe
y detiene a tu madre, las palabras de tu padre hechas trizas
marullo que regresa una y otra vez para acumularse a tus pies
si el pasado es otra isla más en este archipiélago que zozobra
podríamos volver a zambullirnos en todas las veces que no
encontramos como coincidir sin reincidir en los dolores
típicos del invierno recurrente que marchita la arena
donde me siento a esperar otra marejada de lo que fuimos
23.1.18
empty rest stops and crowded truck stops
ball bearings grinding inside the casing
stress and fatigue take their toll
nothing new here
we try to level with each other, but
eye to eye is not something you do
as for myself, fear's my specialty
when the back wheel locks up
i drop the bike, i remember that corner
of my bed, my new bed without your form
for all its complexity, there's no doubt
the problem will be found to be nothing but
behind us now, mixed in with our mutual
propensity for dreaming out of bounds
my wallowing in disbelief, your dismissal
of the way i've meandered back nowhere
safe nor good, quite a waste, in fact
because i am the reason for your misery
because i am what you are avoiding to become
because with tears in your eyes you lied to me
all over again and again over their names
their reasons for sharing your bed
the spontaneity inside the boyz room
not as long ago as i expected it to be
perhaps i will be going nowhere tonight
but tomorrow promises to rid me
of the toxic wanting more of the same
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