jueves, 13 de julio de 2017

Sara (I), CR VocalesV

The flies pass through your body like sharp knives
your stiff hands try to guess the future with their palms facing the sky
we have paid a high price for our inconsequence.
I tilt my head to the side and I look at you from this twisted perspective,
Hey love, wake up.

A year ago, Sara married us
secretly in the Granary Burying Ground
in front of Samuel Adams’ grave.
After we kissed and Sara applauded,
I took her place and married you both.
After you kissed and I applauded and smiled,
You married Sara and I.
After that, we walked back with the rain and ate
ice cream to celebrate.

We spent our fake honeymoon between Salem and Cape cod,
the three of us cuddling in a double bed,
naked, listening to Waits and Dylan.

The two of you with yellow smoke by the window;
you would lick her nipples and she would kiss you,

while I fed the cats.

Who knows who had the right answers those days,
the truth is, we loved making love under the puritan sky
of Massachusetts after watching the Handmaids Tale on your laptop.

We made fun of traditions licking Sara’s clit,
and she fought for her place
in this world with the two of us by her side.

She would cross the room with her pale skin and slender body
knowing she had our attention, and then she would sit in the corner where the cats slept
and open her legs for us to see the beginning and the end of our story,
she opened her legs and our humanity, but we were the placeholders of nothingness.

When Sara said she was moving to Portland we didn’t know what to say,
she was expecting us to move there, we were expecting her to stay.
Terrible triad of indecisions.
From then on, we perceived daylight through shadows,
but we should have fought for our room on the floor, instead.

Now, we google the weather in Portland to imagine what she’s wearing,
she does the same with us, but feels betrayed.

I lie next to your body and you open your eyes
death or dishonor, that’s what I read in them.

We should fly to Portland I tell you,
and an immense sadness fills the room.
To lose the past is a tragedy.
You'll see, we will taste her again
and we'll taste ashes.

CR - VocalesV

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