Happy Fridaz Fam!
Go easy into this holiday weekend, go with love in your heart and tenderness in your voice. Go easy and take this time to relax, to sit in the space between shadow and the soul, where poets are drunk, soul sings to bone, people read poetry, and street lights still sing even in the dark night. Go and be in love, with someone, something, somewhere. Go and be love, for grand is love and little we are. I am going with sweetness in my mouth, with touch in my hand, with love in my lil heart, with flowers growing in my chest, with songs being sang in my mustache, I am going home to motherland!
XVII (I do not love you…)
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.