Words

And words, they dissolve
Like sugar on your tongue
Like ice on pavements of summer
Like yellow leaves in spring.

Words, like days and strangers
Pass me by, faceless, on the road.

Old words are enemies,
Songs and friends you
Choose not to meet.

Sometimes, in black of the night
Words are mirages, maybe unknown birds
Words are places that howl at dawn
That murmur and scream.

Words are your own curse
When you become what you write.

And words of morning are born
Through the dark
When it’s easy to paint her
On the canvas of tomorrow
With shades that make a tale.

Know deceiving words
That follow and never rhyme,
If you go where your story goes,
To meet the horizon
Or into a crude moon
Don’t end where it begins.

Pages of the mind

Remember me as a day
When rain fell free on everyone
And washed in my shade
You roamed with a tale to tell.
Or remember me as the rain
That drenched no one.

Remember me as a cloud
That changed its shape when winds changed direction
Caught in the sun of your eye
Our reflection was beautiful.

Or remember me as a cloud that
Drifted and found only you
To give my shapes a name
Before words had a home.

Remember me as an open road
Moonlit at night, naked as a fish
Bereft of the sea, gasping for air
Going in circles around you.

Or remember me as the night
When I surrendered into your open arms
Between your glowing breasts
Like a vagabond moon
With a promise of healing.