6039 Before the ashes

Do not prolong 

Surrender.

You know that 

The safe-conduct 

Of your caress 

Is the only key 

That sets my heart 

Free.

Do not extend the waiting: 

This age 

Of desolation and sorrow 

Drives my illusion 

Toward a point 

Of no return, 

Where the furnace 

Of despair 

Ultimately 

Consumes me.

Come now, 

Before the smoke 

In my ruins obscures 

Your name, 

Before silence 

Utters you 

Within my heartbeat.

Do not delay 

The approach 

Of your hands 

Upon my plexus: 

I am a wick 

That still resists, 

This vortex, 

This vertex, 

This edge 

That makes me tremble 

On the brink of oblivion.

Give yourself, 

And let your light 

Break the siege, 

Let the pulse 

Of your chest 

Restore 

What time has 

Besieged.

If you delay, 

My heart, 

I will have no doors 

To open, 

Nor ashes capable 

Of remembering us.

6031 To plough the Aral Sea

No more indulgence  

In self-pleasure.  

No more moaning  

Over my pain.

Today I close  

This chapter  

In which I was forced  

To plough the Aral Sea.

I feel the furious 

Waves  

Crashing  

Against the mirror  

Of my frustration.

I will take one last look  

At your cage.  

And I leave.

You planted inside me  

A Molotov cocktail  

Of delirium:  

You mixed,  

Consciously,  

Insomnia,  

Melancholy,  

Resignation.

My fertile seeds,  

Thrown with force,  

Fell upon 

Your barren land.

And I did nothing  

But weep  

A sea  

Of salty tears.

6023 Cosmograms of pleasure

I know that you trace 

Cosmograms of pleasure, 

Like someone drawing maps.

When you decide to anoint me 

With your caresses, 

As if you were enthroning 

The kingdom of your joy 

In the empty spaces 

Of my plexus, 

You will make me transfigure 

Toward an immense desire.

My body will become 

The support of your symbols, 

And i assure you that 

Whenever you wish, 

With your tenderness 

I will consubstantiate with you.

I suspect, with good reason, 

That our gazes function 

As an interface

To ascend 

The staircase 

Of delight.

I know that you trace 

Cosmograms of pleasure, 

Like someone drawing maps.

6015 Between longing and anxiety

It is the oppression 

Of your lack of love 

Upon me: 

An elephant's 

Foot 

Crushing 

My chest; 

The shattering 

Of the balance 

In the waters 

Of the skating 

Insect; 

A stone 

Statue, 

Without faith, 

Sinking as it 

Tries to walk 

On the sea.

Your lack of love 

Bends 

My desires 

Toward 

The narrow tunnel 

Of sleeplessness.

And I don't want to live 

Like this, between longing 

And anxiety.

6008 I long to be legitimated

I long to be

Legitimated

By your gaze,

Validated

By your pupils.

Look at me:

I am a tree

Whose canopy

Waits,

Unperturbed,

For the fire

Advancing

Through the forest.

May your course

Give meaning

To my flowing

In this present

Of space

And time.

I walk

With the immense

Yearning

For your timbre,

For your dawn.

I want nothing more

Than your glow,

I seek nothing more

Than your shadow

To kiss it

And kiss it again

Until your moons

Expand

And govern

Every step

Of your

Seductive mouth.

Until you seal

And certify

My feeling

From long ago.

6001 A beginner’s mistake

I have made

A beginner’s

Mistake.

I was discovered

By the attentive ray

Of your pupil.

Now you read

My solar flares

With astronomical

Precision,

You anticipate

Each outburst,

Each aurora

That insists on being born.

The dermal valley

That covers me

Enters iridescent vigil

When your presence

Draws near,

As if my skin

Were learning

A new way of seeing.

5987 I got the ars combinatoria

I got the ars combinatoria

Capable of igniting

The movement

Of your gaze

Toward pleasure.

When you allow me

To guide,

With reverence,

Your ark of the covenant

To the most sacred place

Of your temple,

To the most 

ancient sign

Of your skin.

That this trembling

Exists

Makes beat

The adipose cells

That permeate

The joints

Of my body.

As if each verse

Reminded that

My flesh too responds

To the wonder of your being.

5980 Your mere presence

Your mere presence

Makes me release

The stone

I carry wrapped

In my chest

And that bears

The name

Of sorrow.

As if it were

A weightless satellite

Falling from its orbit,

My grief dissolves

Within me

When your foot

Crosses the limit

Of my chains.

5973 I almost cry

I almost cry

From pleasure

Seeing that

Spring approaches.

It is foreseen

That my sakura trees

Will bloom

Earlier than usual

In my chest,

Because of the tenderness

With which your body

Makes me

Vibrate.

5959 Like the meander’s curve

I see you 

Circling around me 

With a soft 

Purr; 

While you nibble on 

My tender leaves 

And my sprouts, 

You run your tongue 

Along 

The edge 

Of my fingertips, 

Like a stray 

Cat 

Letting curiosity 

Peek onto 

My balcony.

I understood that I was already 

Trapped in the trajectory 

Of desire, 

In the orbit

Of longing.

I had refused 

To interlace chimeras 

That might have consequences 

For my battered 

Heart.

However, 

With your crusade 

Toward my Jerusalem, 

You showed me through actions 

That dreaming 

Is infinite, 

That the spoken word 

Always returns 

Like a boomerang, 

That illusion is 

Circular, 

That your eyes and my eyes 

Make a clear match, 

That desire is 

Inevitable, 

Like the meander’s curve 

In the rivers that border 

Mount Aconcagua.

5951 Guest at Mordecai’s banquet

Not always, 

But when I 

Slide along 

The slopes of 

Your steep 

Mountains, 

As if I were 

A surfer 

Of silver, 

I feel in my chest 

The amalgam 

Of sensations 

You lead me 

To experience, 

When I breathe in, 

With a resolute chest, 

The pristine pollen of your 

Softly sighing calm.

And within these 

Balls of fire 

In which I travel, 

Wrapped in 

The aura 

Of your hands 

Upon my head, 

I live an apocalypse 

Of eagerness 

That makes me sigh.

Actually, 

What I want to say is 

That I long, 

With anxious desire, 

To repeat once more, 

Like a guest 

At Mordecai’s 

Banquet, 

The taste of your fruits 

Forbidden

To my desire.

5943 When it happens again

When it happens again,

The secret burst

Of your Big Bang

The sure return

Of your boomerang,

When it happens again

The eclipse you provokes

In the restless orbit

Of my pupils,

With the warm vertigo

Of your surrender,

I, trapped

In infinite geography

Of your oracular thighs,

Where time bends

And the future undresses,

I will let myself fall 

Headlong,

Like in a rite 

Descending

In transfiguration

From my cross 

Into your flesh.

5937 From the catacombs of my apathy

You rose

From the catacombs of my apathy

As if you were Lazarus rising

From the world of the dead.

And with your torch of light,

Like a Colossus of Rhodes,

You illuminated the seven seas

Of my body.

In that instant one could see

A sea of sargassos

Entangling my hair,

And the red ocean

Of my drumming chest.

No need for you to share

Your bread or fish,

Nor pour your wine.

For the Eucharist of your eyes

Had already given me

The nutrients required

For the survival

Of my forsaken soul.

Once again

I tasted ambrosia,

And the ethereal became matter,

As if conjured

By Sathya Sai Baba.

5936 I conjure you, when you come

I conjure you, when you come

With your oblique smile to gaze

Into the mirror of my eyes,

That your lips turn into butterflies

And alight upon every flower

In the meadow of my back.

Let the target of my mouth

Be the sole aim of the darts of your soul.

And when sadness appears

Like a giant dog

With its iron jaws,

May you turn into a colossal beaver

That resolutely devastates

The taiga of apathy

That traps me within.

Be my blanket

In the afternoons of my winter,

And like the shadow of a rock

In the heat of summer.

Be the wind of madness

Whipping my face.

I conjure you, when you come

With your oblique smile to gaze

Into the mirror of my eyes,

That your lips turn into butterflies

And alight upon every flower

In the meadow of my back.

5933 Motion is relative

Motion is relative 

To the observer.

That is why, when you move away 

From the epicenter of my feelings,

Like an echo of the Doppler effect

Nostalgia reaches me

Wrapped in the absent warmth 

Of your gaze.

Motion is relative 

To the observer.

Now I do not know if your days 

And mine

Can once again orbit 

The same center.

Motion is relative 

To the observer.

That is why I wonder

If our velocities 

Could synchronize once more,

If your eyes and mine

Would curve 

Their trajectories again

Until they meet

In the comfort 

Of the same horizon.

While everything spins, 

Expands, 

Or drifts away,

I remain

Like a pillar of salt

Watching 

My prairies burn.

Something as ordinary 

As loving you

Has become 

A knot in my throat,

A tangled 

Net

In the magnetic 

Field 

Of my plexus.

5925 Your future revisited

When ten thousand suns 

Have passed,

When I rest my head 

Upon the wine,

And, without spells, 

The floodgate of memory

Swings wide open

Into the abyss 

Of remembrance,

You will be here, 

Indifferent,

Anchored to this present

That will already be the past.

5917 As above, so below

You rise and fall, 

As if you understood

That as above, 

So below.

You generate 

Waves of pleasure

As you move along 

The altitudinal gradient 

Of my life.

All your seeds, 

Scattered 

In my times of fair,

Have come to know your light.

In the wake of your trail, 

Within me revive

Aaron’s rod 

And the valley of dry bones,

Which I carried as a burden 

By the side of my boat.

Today your roots 

Have reached 

The heart of my marrow.

And as you wander 

Slowly

On the surface 

Of my waters,

You rise and fall, 

As if you understood

That as above, 

So below.

And you continue generating 

Waves of pleasure

As you traverse 

The heights and depths 

Of my existence.

5909 To take off death

This early 

August morning 

With storm 

Warnings,

I just want 

To cast off the moorings 

And sail freely 

In your ocean.

To feel the gentle daring 

Like wind 

Beneath the wings.

As your embrace 

Wraps me 

In the wondrous chariot 

Of the constellation 

In your gaze.

I want to lose nothing 

And gain everything with you.

What I truly 

Long for is 

To take off death 

And live life.

5901 Pentecost of desire

When you feel the vertigo

Of knowing I’m nearby,

You must tilt

Your head and close 

Your eyes simultaneously.

When you feel the vertigo

Of knowing I’m nearby,

You must understand

What was prophesied

In past eternities.

When you feel the vertigo

Of knowing I’m nearby,

My lips will settle

Like butterflies on fire

Upon the opulent adornment

Of your beloved flesh.

I will cease to be a promise

Suspended in breath,

And I will pour myself out

As if I were the holy spirit

Upon your universe,

Until each one

Of your heavens

Opens wide

And your moaning is heard

In angelic tongues,

Unfathomable,

At the four corners

Of your body.

5893 The lesson of the lemniscate

I drafted a thousand instructions

To not run

Into your arms,

Ignoring

The dermal movement

Around my lips.

You taught me

What a lemniscate was,

When eternity

After eternity,

In a fleeting instant,

My tongue wandered

Through your 

Unknown labyrinths

While your harps echoed

In an apotheotic spiral

A repertoire of moans.

I learned too late

That you had placed

Beneath my tongue

An auspicious clover

Of pleasure.

Stubbornly I immersed myself

In the battle

To resist returning

A prisoner to your destiny,

Not knowing that the path

I longed to follow

Was leading me unknowingly

To the point of no return

Where your nest resides.