Ophiuchus
Oh, dark sprout
phosphorescence of the sword and the moon
oh, of royal descent chasm
amid the glacier of flowers
you wrap the foolishness of your flesh
around the vestment of an ancient intuition
catalytic and sleepless
I deliver food to you
triumph of the birds and the verdure
to the highest tower of your laughter.
The rolling rock occludes the cave of your courage
an angel shines before you
agate with bands of light
hanging onto the fiery arc of blood
I open the book of knowledge
on your blazing legs and arms.
With this fiery stigma I aim at
the core of your expectation and
I incise the meaning of your next day
on both your first-ever lust and
your ever-last pain
now that we’re left alone and
our ears are burdened by the steps of dusk and
our eyes are demagnetized
by tomorrow’s nakedness
now that we’re alone and
what’s left to us is war that defeats war and
pain that gives birth to the statues.
Like a winged hawk over us
motionless as if made of stone
the moment that time has shocked hovers.
Libros Libertad 