In those days
When the rain
And your absence
They made me hostage
In contumacy.
The desperation came
To nibble
The carpet
Of my room.
Without sleeping,
As wounded gazelle
In eternal vigil
In perpetual insomnia
With my conquered pupil
Almost an asylum.
I stayed pasturing
Bitter herbs
In the savannas
Of the slackness
Without you.
As a result
Of your distance
I hid
Into the shade
Of the pain.
And when you arrived,
When you arrived
I jumped as an impala
From here to there
And from there to the ether,
And it was the morning
And the afternoon
The first day
And I saw, that it was good.
Hopeless I had to
Become an addict
To your constant
Bite of lips
To the perennial
Lick of meats
To the continuous
Touch of tongues.
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