Sunday, August 25, 2013

my friend has turned into
an old sagging woman

but she knows her way
to cope up with time

she surrenders her mind
to the plunders of her past

she pawns all her dreams
to tomorrow's promises

on nights when there is
nothing worth doing

she sits by the window
and asks the wind to make

love with her again.Look
at her: strawberry lips

a winding road, a high cliff,
two mountains for breasts

waiting for your fingers
her tongue lands on your pelvis

her hair becomes the river
where you sing and sail again.
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