FULL MOON ON TOP OF A CHAMPAGNE PALM'S TIP

a wall made of limestone
from years
is giving me the movies
in my mind

what has become a problematic
insomniac night
i have mastered in the art of growing
the flowers that i need on those
night gardens

when you have arrived as a
stranger without a given name
i have dealt it so well
when i promised to find you
what they call a home

you may think that there is only
one path, one room, one last option,
you are wrong, for the moment we step
outside, sooner than soon,
pathways subdivide, like the veins in
your hands, like the varicose in your
legs, like the tentacles of doubts
that crawl in the thinking of our times.