Monday, February 13, 2012

footsteps and hands-

I walk with your shadows
like a footstep
to the country of memories
where the senses lose their meaning
and ideas are farce
where I feel more than I see
where silences hold the conversation
and your eyes murmurs an ocean
and I drown

all while your voice mimes
a soft breeze
and the comfort of a well slept night
where nothing remains as it were
and words are just a pretext.
to a more subtler dialogue
that proceeds by touch

and then the facade of the world
calls me back for its daily rigmaroles
but even when you are not around
you remain, like a sky
that shelters the slow rhythm of
my poetry

and your thoughts paint my words
as my soul bathes in the light of
your poem

for I am just a hand
that scribbles of whatever
you have asked me to

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