Wind & us

The night brought with itself a thousand of nostalgic groans
 Between the rocks of the world. And I shouted between them, I was
 Put to bed on a limestone and the wind was whirling petals of
 Black roses and bees of fire.
 And you were a dampness in the face,
 Pure dew, white dawn, going and coming with the surge
 Of the night, like a raft balancing beams in the twilight.
 And you had smell of mire numbed in the time,
 And your face was reflecting my deceptions, early in the morning,
 You were crying without consolation.
The river hurries, today, in its eternal circled trip
 Around our heresy of prohibited love. The river,
 And the petrified fishes lost in its deepness,
 The branches of the old palms, they all fly!,
 Broken by the ferreous wind that furrows our faces.