|Agonia.Net | Policy | Advertising||Contact | Participate|
|Poetry Personals Prose Screenplay Essay Press Article Communities Contest Special Literary Technique|
￭ Epistle of a millennial
- - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
the first myth of our love
two suns each morning at sunrise,
two suns at sunset.
two moons above cover us
through the thin ceiling and it has been summertime for a hundred years.
this is how we met: december, when cherries bloom for the second time.
she had hair like melted iron
in her eyes there was room for more sky.
her lips pomegranate berries
and kaoline hands.he moved like a dancer
on a wire above the world.
the first myth of our love
I fell in love almost instantly.
you couldn`t have liked her: it was a rumour that she revived a young man with a single kiss,
a few streets away.
I opened the door and I let her in.
before she put her lips on mine she told me she could teach me
to see things that hide in the light
like us, when we were kids, used to hide in the dark.
when she spoke, I heard the sound of the see in her voice: the waves, the breeze, the scream of the seagulls, the merry voices of the fishermen,the sound of fish jumping in the light of the full moon.
I've been so blind, I've been so blind until I saw all those colors! oo, yes, her eyes in which the whole universe set dripping into mine, her mouth melting into mine, we joined the skies with the tips of our tongues. in my mind millions of shades exploded, colors which I can only describe like flights, music, floating, love, peace and pleasure, desire and fulfillment and infinite mixes.
I felt the memory getting young and getting old at the same time. like a river that swells and gets dry, leaving all the waste behind. though I could't remember, I knew that all the hurt was gone and, moreover, I knew I was afraid of nothing from now on.
the next thing she did:
she pulled me so close to her
that I could feel the throb in her chest into mine, then she put her hand on my heart and stopped it.
she asked me to do the same.
in the silence afterwards I heard the time getting stuck like a steam engine in a glass station.
now we only have to love each other to stay alive, she said.
then she licked my whole skin until
I became a boiling liquid.
I caressed and licked her also and she became a living torch.
when we mixed, we became an ivory steam
which filled all the emptiness between sky and earth.
and flowers grew from colors of music and flight, of missing and comfort.
oo, and after we made love, our bodies became magnetic.
everywhere we went, wherever it was, it got stuck to us:books, wood puppets, clothes,
washing machines, small or huge dogs, people of all ages.
we got rid of each of them carefully and we kissed the hot spots.
moving like aurora borealis.
this has been our love for a hundred years
which went by like a summer.
two suns at sunrise, two suns at sunset and two moons above our bodies eah night.
we only have to love each other to stay alive, she said, and we got stuck in each other like dandelions flakes in an air twirl.
we covered the other`s sun with our hands
and there was night.
to the furthest galaxies
the sound of our love could be heard.
and you will hear:
if there are no myths about love,
they must be invented. and out of breath,
kneeling in front of the radios, TV sets, you will listen to them every evening or morning and you will learn to obey them.
|Home of Literature, Poetry and Culture. Write and enjoy articles, essays, prose, classic poetry and contests.|