Before and After

                             Before

The Moon looks at me, through her silver-blue porcelain light
floating softly in the bleak night
still, waiting patiently for my own defrost timing
glowing her half-face, she sighs
making rhymes with the wind and the tides
the dunes are ruined castles where the reed flutes are singing
an unisonous choir as a single blow
all the peninsula undulates, the shores resembling a broken elbow
just as my pen is an arrow made of melancholic sorrow
flooding the rugous old paper - wanting to be winged... weightless
trapped inside myself... my weakness
an everlasting winter inner land where snow is but sea-shells and sand

I question the water lounging in my hand
as if this oracle could bring the answers I seek or don’t understand

                             and After

I question the water lounging in my hand
as if this oracle could bring the answers I seek or don't understand

In which... all that I see is the Moon reflection... a mirror of me
dormant witch hiding my tears, between the spheres
she takes away my pain and offers it to the rain
when I ask of you... saying your name... she stays the same
with her Etruscan silhouettes and mystic hazes
gliding behind my eyelashes, remembering shadows on the alabaster glazes
here, there, everywhere,
an elliptic dance of memories leaving and returning
life and death have no meaning as love, they are but one fearless entity
chiselled by the nocturnal sculptress
over endless, sleepless dreams
beneath the countless stars... waiting for other colliding constellations

I lay down my pen to the dust and wait for you


*K
MARCH
*Y
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