Sudden flowers lapse


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Sweet one, I’m so foreign to your luxury
I have no interest in champagne
I’d much rather an outstretched soul
The speck of birds in a silence of intimacy
I’m quiet like that, in awe of the little things

I’m the initial letters of lost fingerprints
A cherished voice that can disappear
As soon as I came, free in the watery prismatic white-and-blue

While I’m filled with glowing tributes
I’d rather live a lonely maturity today
Than always hoping for solace in the long journey
A bullet of delight, in the middle of the night
Nature’s beauty spilt in Korean-Portuguese

I know the flower’s life, the ocean’s beauty
The blue, to blue-green to olive set of a woman
There’s no margin for error in the feminine mystique

The years of mating, the search for experience
And it hurt to feel your singing flamencos go
Your wet destiny of the rumor of the sky’s thousand lips
Reflected in your bottomless feelings and charms
But with time, salt and whispers, I’ll forget you

Savaged by the carnivorous impulse in my hope
Where thirst is never enough, and in the calculation of time
I’m not immune to the fragrance of the distant pollen
That beckons me indignantly across the fields

Sweet one, I have no energy for anything but
The sudden flower of reciprocity.

How Spring is Ruined in the City 


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How Spring is Ruined in the City

I find I am more vulnerable than ever
Even if I am more insensitive than before
I come naked into the world ready
We are all naked essentially bare

To the new day, like a body of a soul-within
I am sheltered and I avoid too
Much stimulation, but this leaves me
Essentially impressionable, a metamorphosis

For the right person, essentially mutable
The lips of my soul hoping the world
Would kiss me, though it happens
So so rarely, I am nearly anonymous

I am so introverted I feel mute or
My body attempts identification with autism
I am so attentive to the beauty of the world
And yet so unable, I’m in awe of the failure

Of my inability to access it, to communicate
With these beings all around me, it is normal
To feel this way, I am a transparency of a clumsy spring
That knows summer will leave me empty

The fragrance of newness hopes for new friends
Or a distinct seduction of the spring itself
Wishing flowers would point to my direction
And a promise of a smile might bathe me

In its glow, I feel left out of these celebrations
I don’t have children, I don’t have the touch
Of novelty, or, stuttering pearls that sensualize existence
I am vulnerable and numb from too little contact

Clumsy in the brightness of my own being
Spring is not regulated and she isn’t told
How much I wish to kiss the Spring that comes and goes
Like youth or a woman we cannot have
It’s slender and has no need for reciprocity.