The Flesh of Time
Weather I know
or I don’t know
its exact meaning
I declare:
your body is
the flesh of time.
(Which thought
ever explained
a single verse
to its marrow?
Which emotion
ever unlocked
a word truthfully?
The reverse
question seems
almost childish.)
Do I mean
that I listen to
shots of seconds
in your breast?
Does it mean
that pneuma succumbs
to the attraction of matter?
Weather I don’t know
or I know what it means
I declare:
Your body is the dress
that shrouds everything.
Libros Libertad 