I am glad i have something i don't owe
and it's been pretty hard to keep
my hands open, holding the future
as if it had horns.
balance might be an unreachable drawer
in a delirious mind, a distance between
two infinities but the stillness 0f the sun
doesn't allow me to comprehend much.
i don't have any philosophy.
i think i am a woman of senses.
-i think therefore i can't sleep-
nothing can help me to recover
my own echo. it is over and
whenever i stare at the present,
there is something behind
the throbbing calendar.
i try to ignore it because
i couldn't build heaven in
our garden this year,
if i could be the lion tamer,
if i could be what you need.
it's past midnight and all i can do
is to touch the lesions with
respect and care
but i can't feel anything
as the night delivers its softness
to my hands.