Your Sun-deprived Shadow
Your Sun-deprived Shadow


If I were never there,
to let you slip in between
a rising cosmos
that opens to a cemetery,
then I would fail to
swallow your goodbyes
or even compare your fingers
with fervid lilacs
and dust-laden old streets
where I hold my windows close.
But then I find you nearer
to roofs that shiver
with incoherent indecisions,
when a thousand rai
ns
extracted from
your sunken cheeks,
kindle the vocals
of an early bird,
so as to say that
the spring is here
and so are we
but the splendour of suns,
whose shadows revise
undead funerals,
is what makes me
a premonition
to sweeten your lips,
if you would let me,
and only if I were ever there.