Within the Volumes

I cannot live without you
without you by my side,
in my arms.

I have endured your absence
like a raindrop that endures the impossible distance
in the volume of oceans,
inside the setaceous thirst of a desert.
I have inured your absence like an innocent man
who has been accused of a heinous crime,
guilty of living, love,
guilty of having a dream.

Like a fish of beseeching
spewed
on the shining shingle of alien eyes,
like a momentum of passion
mummified inside a figurine,
like a moment crystallized in an ice cube,
like eternity hidden inside a moment.

Like a butterfly
bottled inside the music box of its wings,
like a waltz inside the music box of a ballerina,
like cygnets
hatched in the crystal chandeliers,
like a rain dear,
trapped inside the broken glass menagerie
of hyenas' fangs.

Like a volcano of desolation
erupting in dawn,
like shines breastfeeding
there infants of glory,
like the seeps of morning dews
on the crests of thorns
beneath a bleeding aurora.