Reflection
I stand on the pile of fallen leaves and listen to the day’s pulse creaking just under my soles, the frenetic mode of the autumn loneliness as if in the middle of the marketplace where the crier announces the first beheading.
—Tonight, I feel like a teenager. Let’s take the car and go to the beach to watch the submarine races.
I stand in the middle of the fallen leaves, while my dream cruises down the correct path of anonymity, sky dressed in its azure, a meteoric symbol of peace in a cosmos without your smile.
—Where do you want to go for dinner tonight before I pick what to wear?
Lonely falcon counts feathers and sharpened talons, and my dream reflects in my retina all I have to do is close my eyes and grasp its wholeness: poetry, my peaceful resolution opposite the consumer-oriented banality of the city’s pulse and I, a new Orpheus seeking my Eurydice, fight against Hades.
—That small Italian restaurant has tasty dishes. Let’s go there. I will wear my short red dress.
I stand on the pile of fallen leaves, wondering how jealousy keeps our friends outside the sanctity of our hearts, like the sanctum sanctorum keeps outsiders away from the greed of the insiders.
—Yes, we shall go there. I like the young server with the blue eyes!
Libros Libertad 