quarta-feira, 9 de novembro de 2016

A Southern Wind - Rickey Laurentiis

Quiet as a seed, and as guarded,
our walking took the shape of two people
uneasy together. I had the feeling
that on the anxious incline of that hill we gave the hill
a reason to be. What loneliness, what
privacy was in that? Hey, I said. Race me to the top?
The is when I nearly tripped on the sly earth,
an earth shaping to itself again. A stone?
But, no, picking it up, bringing the wormed-through
black flesh of it to my height, I knew it for 
an apple and gnashed and let the juices freak and down
my face. Don't ask me why I did it. I know. 
I know there are poisons like these we have 
to feed each other, promises we try to hold--
though how can they be contained? I wanted to give you 
what I could of me. To be personal, without 
confession. I wanted to believe in the constancy of that hill.
Daylight was tiring. The air, secret, alone.
I won, you said. You did, I said. So we stood there.

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