Liz Martínez

constelada in the twilight

Constelada... seated in a chair, looking at twilight in the air suspended. 
I trembled if saw you, cried when you dictated me poetry. 
They were so alive those suns and transparency in your look, the night this more fence but your you have the
laid out time in the knees. 
Minimum, from a distance, tiny view.  being melted the afternoon
You cause meditate me in the distance.  My light soul rises and you does not touch.  Lira in your soul.  Brushstrokes in your mouth. 
the silhouettes of your barefoot feet in the breeze roll, your murmurs swim distant but the sky burns fast
A transparent trill the one that disturbs the palms.  Carefully the rocicler in your soul sleeps. 
Seated, contemplating wonders, indifferent to the mundane injuries. 
I continue constelada, seated in that chair, looking at crepusculos in the air suspended


All rights belong to its author. It was published on by demand of Liz Martínez.
Published on on 11/18/2006.


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