Opens the door
I need a little more space in my heart
Could we move things around a little?
The crucial things are the china parts
Where do I keep them, they’re so brittle?
I certainly don’t need more room for desires
They take up too much space already
I need more wood to light other fires
I need a whole forest to keep them steady
I need a little corner for a bird with its beak
Should I move the dressing-table of my wife?
I need a small mountain with a vertiginous peak
Can I shift the basic coordinates of my life?
We do not speak much now
we only make love
words are left far behind and we
are travelling on a road where we have rested
from time to time
Silence is already here, in this night
the chirping of the crickets allows
my hand to touch her cheek and lie
inertly like a shroud
Our wandering’s end is a promised land
there is nothing there
only words have become trees
and the grass
an infinite silence
All day I have kept your memory near at hand
The clear bright vision of a yet untouched land
It shatters at the touch, liquid and shy
Full of fretful caresses the day goes by
I stoop to pluck the roses of my memory of your eyes
(Within hand they lie)
The downpour of your absence waves like a hand
Appearing and disappearing like crabs in the sand