My fingers are sore and tired
Of all the hours I have spent scratching old
Questions that have no answer but still instigate a fire.
No price for essence, existentialism just can't be sold.
I pronounce those twenty years of mine
Like a compilation of memories
Instead of a period of time,
Life that doesn't come from time
but from the sweet roots of the vine.
I remember many wars of me vs. me.
I recall sketching myself over and over again,
With a gray pencil that only shadowed pain.
New places, new eyes, new patterns of tainted veins.
But it was always the same
Finding a parter was a continuous mistake.
A phrase that would always hunt my way:
"They all go away"
I wore it as a crown of thorns impregnating my mind
As a martyr paying for someone else's crime.
Waiting, wishing for skin to be kind,
for a heart to be mine.
And then you came
A human body blossomed through my lips
Playing with my tongue: your name,
Eradicating all my weeps.
Sweet word that kissed my lips
And winged my eyes,
Tore my heart, and squeezed the juice of life
Using not his fists
But a love untainted with lies.
Illuminate me with sentiment as wisdom,
With that incandescent spark of thee.
Paint a colorful window
And fly away with me... free.
Embrace me with pleasure,
Surround my soul with your flesh.
Spot the totality of tenure,
Knit serendipity, warm my body
With an oneiric mesh.
Be transparent, love is the cure.
