The girl in the other room

The girl in the other room,

I guess she knows me well.

She warns me – never tell

The idleness poem that blasts the bloom

Of the delighted sunflowers of my head

Which brakes its necks when the wind shifts regret.

Sultry dying my life denigrates in a feast

Of a sorcerer rejected lukewarm delicacies.

The girl in the other room,

I guess she knows me well.

Sticking each other, from the morning to the noon;

Such was the amount of fluids – I’ve forgot the ancient wells.

Brazen fights, indiscreet accusations,

Brilliant draws, embalmed argumentations.

And so, the shadows of our bodies danced trough the twilight

And the teeth of the shark I couldn’t keep out of sight.

The girl in the other room,

I guess she knows me well.

I found her when horizon was a doom,

In that time, barbarians, by my fields, dwell.

Her heart seams to be made of honey and stone.

Her clarity totters from nothing to none.

Her authenticity roars crudely trough my face

Of humbled hummingbird facing her pace.

The girl in the other room,

I guess she knows me well.

To her, my soul I had to sell,

Letting me unkempt as the notes of Art Tatum.

Breathing in the airs of earth and rain,

Giving off an exiting unheard of scent.

Unbridledly numbing the lucidity of my brain

Makes me fall into a chasm made of no element.

By night, my reasoning she’ll easily take.

Together our sins fate becomes sake.

Then, when we tire of mislead the time,

At her side, one day, I’ll miss the rime.

Ernesto Molinas

0x/05/2009