Saturday, March 25, 2006

Little Boats

My heart is still
And beats with caution
Around the barbed wire of time
Afraid that every beat moves towards you
Afraid that every beat counts a letter of your name
Afraid this too will be history

And here we are
My heart beats illogically

When I hold you there is no time
Inside of me the seagulls pass
And flaming arrows of sensibility
Wind around me
When I kiss you an ocean roars in silence

The same ocean that carries you off
On little boats made of silver light
To a place where we only have the moon in common

G. Flores

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