(Flickr – Red Heart by Rune T)
Fields of waterfalls require faith.
Yet, I don’t fear crossings.
I believe in your embrace!
And time is our gift.
We were before the winds essence.
On such veil remains the comet’s core.
If a journey is a condition
I’ll inscribe all the steps until the end.
Every rebirth demands memory.
And I weave the shroud of red stones
into thin moonlight petals
yearning the kisses that fulfil your heart.
Myths of lust stay at bay
as I chase the twilight centaur,
hoping to deserve wisdom words
and return to the pleasure of your curves
The scarlet thing in you is my dream.
Podes dar-me a mão,
abraçar-me em silêncio.
Mas, sem revelar as minhas fraquezas,
morrerei em desgraça.
You may give me your hand,
let me cry,
embrace me in silence.
But, without revealing my weaknesses,
I’ll die in disgrace.
Sandstorms and blights,
lamb’s wool and movies sounds.
every fundamental notion is drained.
Ruby mountains are no more!
Gone with the rain,
nothing remains in celluloid.
Drifts of green soil?
Irrelevant pieces of desire!