Your indifference poisons the water
That I drink from your beauty.
Your mellifluous words are honey in
A cup of tea and Cantarella.
I want to hurt you with my words, but I know
That these stings and needles
Cannot cut your paper thin skin
So I swear to myself
— I’d rather love a dying flower
Muse, I don’t know
How long I’ll stay thirsty; how long will I
Care about this garden?
Nothing can make you love me, but what
Can make you lose me?
Water my love everyday — kill me little by little
Patterns of beehives — I fly around her
As if she was a pretty lily.
I beg her to
Water my love everyday
I told myself that I’d occasionally repost some of my old material, so…
This is probably the second or third time I repost this poem. Oh, just checked. Third. And not the last.
It’s definitely one of the poems of my life, not because I think it is beautiful, but because it speaks to my soul and my current self regardless of time or what I am living. If that is somehow a good thing, I will never know…
Meu amor se foi. As pétalas secaram e cairam. Sem palavras doces, sem lírios. Este é um novo mundo — terra sem musas de olhos d’água ou rapazes sorrindo sonhos futuros.
As abelhas de mel voaram para longe daqui.