Fires
Morning breaks the blades,
lurking by walk the citadel, pests.
Sun kisses the great patriarch on his knees.
Extreme unction floats in the air,
hunger, twilight thirst,
white walking down the shrine,
universal wonders.
Incense, murderous verbiage;
broken stone that drips remains.
Dropwise it mutters the name of the traitor,
the name of their children.
Goddesses are lights,
arteries, burning corals,
metals and bleach, ravenous locusts.
Why have you left in the middle of the hunt?
Untraceable founder, inaccessible,
without past or luggage.
I am love until pain,
a bloody emesis.
I am song of twin fireflies,
black voice, perdition,
I am the tale in the sands.
In the trembling of your reflection, in the caress,
in the weak eyelids, veils of agony.
There lies the tender claim,
milky, promontory,
like a kiss on the stigma.
It sprouts like rain, the gentle sorcery.
The heavens weep, the candles mourn,
the mansard has burned down.
Lilies spring from the mold
of hemp reverie, in empty hours.
Fords talk, they whine
between reed and tundra,
astonishment and panther.
Embrace lost in the dune
by furious heat of gun,
anger and battery noise.
Incarnate the embers now,
Your dry word graces.
Sing to me as the fire pierces,
speak, run, play, whistle.
Whim born of tremor,
burn down my home.
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Originally published (spanish) on: http://wp.me/s43BVr-fuegos