Treasure Island


i don't really know when will this end

this silence
when will this end, this silence between us at noon
a harsh noon, hot and humid, where i burn like a pile of wood in the forest
on a very cold night with you on the other side of the bed
facing the full moon and some shooting stars

this silence between us, when will this end when will the space
between our eyes
resolve the distance of the seasons night and day and summer and rain

i sleep on the bed alone on some scorpion thoughts biting one another
inflicting venoms that numb and even kill
and there you are rocking yourself on a chair making some sleep
like a concoction
of vodka and champagne teasing your eyes filled with tears

the soap on tv is busy with their stories of pain and twist and turns
i pray to end this silence so we can talk and
lay down the final plans
of our earthy longings some demarcations of pain and tolerance and
facts and conclusions
this wherefore and therefore finally

you turn off the tv, and you lay beside me touching my hand
i give in, i still miss you, and i think, the silence has come on the soft
wings of a butterfly for a brief flutter at the ceiling
looking at ourselves for another sweeter second time beginning

the cliche: love is sweeter the second time around is still written on the wall
how can i forget it

Submitted: Sunday, July 20, 2008
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