Mon Vert

We are growing in our ways We are not as we are before All the things remembered are imagined Loved  Just as I have touched them Before where I have traced my fingers And the some Who they may not know Have etched a memory.

far away  the sea has capsized the floating body, on the surface I can see how  the water captures first the chest down to the gut, Trying to push my way to the front the flesh upon my elbow becomes a murmur of broken skin on similar curious creatures trying to catch a glimpse of the  alien in the stellar blue  coat and its mouth  of gravity trying to sink whatever was existent.

glistening the back of the car drives  on the golden sand the waves in the make the unending specks glittering on the mirror view reflecting your eye to the posts bending forward into the soft blend of caramel air and the metallic taste on my tongue I am looking at your hands on the wheel in it is the flow of the rain the longing of old summers.

  the muddy trails are becoming clear  so is the presence of anything at all the tracks are growing weeds and the crickets are starting to invade the day and the conversations become predictable the holey socks are nowhere to be found and everything inconvenient becomes usual I feel the sand flee from my toes.

the nights are sleepless  once more the pearlescent light watches us jealously because of your perfect color sweet You may have uttered a few words but my ears are on your chest on the silent pulsing of your heart eyes this is enough this is more than.

Back then Waiting was natural It felt real Knowing myself And knowing what it was I was convinced that the silence Was a gift And an excuse To admire everything Around you That I shall wait The gaze To catch you again I was patient That everything you do Hurts me And the raw wounds You passingly Forget Are naked whenever I walk With you.