Rather a sheet of paper than a canvas
as if I'd write something on your skin
You talk, paying attention is a pleasure
sometimes I think I don't understand you though
the thirst makes my throat dry
discretely, I deviate my eyes and ask to your skin
easier to follow, my attention is sharper
Your skin tells me about last week,
it tells me about last cry too,
I notice and share certain calm
for we don't meet face to face quite often,
it refuses to tell me about the last joy,
...your voice still echoes,
I'm sorry I didn't listen to you
A complete cartography, lots of stories
my curiosity awakes from hibernate
I will eventually know some of them
...was my thought, when your voice again echoed,
Oh, yeah, I listen to you,
yet I am not sure of understanding
Is it perhaps an answer you're waiting for?
may i say a word, "friendship" perhaps,
your frowned front questions something else,
your blushed cheeks requires a reply,
I am sorry, I don't have any more answers
My curiosity woke up, but don't you worry
the next winter it'll hibernate again
JP
14.07.2010
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2 comments:
Querido George
Qué bello me encantó. Me hiciste recordar el filme de Greenaway ”The Pilow Book”, que tanto me gusta: Tan sensual, tan íntimo. Como la cartografía humana, como los recuerdos, como las historias que en la piel se escriben y que para bien y para mal, permanecen con nosotros por mucho más tiempo
Besito
No pos si de por si mastico lento, en la de Shekespeare mas pior todavía!
Pero de entradita y rapidín también pensé en la almohada humana..... te imprimiré y te releeré.
2046 besotes!
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