POEMA EM INGLÊS This One This One This is the one who willfully or not let enter in a gap between her loins his squirming missiles from his gun that shot some million rounds toward some vague target he could sense not see as soon as he had reached his point of ecstasy This one begged those fierce swimmers (one had a key) toward what she knew was God’s intended destiny a fertile Eden inside of her that would grow me It was then I rose out of the pack I swam beside and made the first attack This one felt pierced a wall lost deep within She felt the squirming violator enter in Felt me plant my root and pitch my tent Felt something microscopic move then split Felt me increase and grow and I in turn could feel her heart’s soft glow This one took her cup of juice and poured me half this one let her belly swell to make a room that I could have my own to grow up in until my arms and limbs and lungs could stand no more and scratched and screamed and pushed to find that opening in her floor This one squeezed me down a tight canal yet as I clawed and thrashed she pushed me on Oblivious to grunts her sobs her hurt I fought her force until I saw a light the light when all I knew inside before was night This one took me drenched with her insides into her arms and laid me on her breast looked at me then kissed my bloody head so I would feel it first before all else that I am loved This one watched it all with her three eyes (an inner eye resided in her heart it saw always further then the other two and added hope to faith in what I was to do) as I trudged paths, sometimes guided - oft alone like a tortoise from his hole long vanished...gone This one saw what even I could not and interceded only when her wisdom felt my long term interest or my life at stake upon the endless trails she watched me snake through all the fires and storms wrought forth by choices I would make This one’s heart still glowed as time drift by glowed on my triumphs and with mercy on my falls She shined on me in spite of my neglect of her She heeded all my calls at every wreck as I think back of her in retrospect This one now is in my arms and breathing gasps Her tiny hand is cold her wrinkled face is white We saw to it her throes produced no cries Her smile still shined within her eyes - Yet what more can I do for her but hold her in my arms until she dies then search this pane of dark for lighter skies
Posted on: Mon, 22 Jul 2013 12:51:40 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015