When animals of the same species have been separated for a long time and then reunite (funerals, baptisms, by accident in a strip club in Las Palmas) they no longer recognize each other.
No letters can change that fact.
No tears.
Maybe the scent of the other's fur can bring some associations to surface, but the past is too deeply buried in genetics and feel distant as a memory of a dream after the first, delirious morning cigarette. Sun behind the curtains; red, burning, like velvet covering the nudity in a sine curve.
This is not poetry. It's never been.
A thin voice whispers from other side of the sheets (Hades, underworld); never leave me. Through layers of fabric I let my finger follow the outline of the lips that just let those words slip.
The blood coagulates.
Takes root to the skin.
Your blog is beautiful. The passages stay with me like echoes after I've read them.
ReplyDelete