Poem of an afternoon
There is nothing more
of this moment of silence
in which you rest
And I see you.
Nothing more
of my head
and still on you,
while the furious blood
It flows under the skin.
Nothing more
to realize in a moment
that you are what I want,
Maybe not now.
Not now, not tomorrow
But always.
Nothing more
of your being abandoned
and my life
lost
in your gaze.
Tremble to thought
than fine more
can be for you
that my heat
on your skin.
Tremble to thought
I can't be
and I can't go
and you shut
but enlighten the path.
Tremble to the thought you could leave me alone
and that nothing is worth.
Make the boss,
but it is a rebellious act
the surrender is not there,
this is submission
who wants everything.
There is nothing more
that this silence
without reason and without thought
a mad silence
that surrounds us.
I'll be your ogiva.
I will be your shield
as I was for others.
There is nothing more
to dive
and fly and live.
To you.
...and what was danger now is joy,
the mystery revealed
and I breathe.
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