The lights are off The music on
It rains outside
You could not remember
I deceive
The air had your smell
Complicity-perfumed breeze
I could not care anymore
Conniving wind
Extended stillness
Passion-scented stillness
You lied
The night is on
After-rain freshness enters my unreality
The air has your breeze
You are close
I dream
I lie
_____Adriana Citlali
XXVI-X-MMXIV
Tonight I am writing under the influence of beautiful, melancholic music.
Advertisements
Share this:
October 26, 2014 at 10:17 pm
Groovy piece. Love the form.
October 26, 2014 at 10:35 pm
Thank you, Matt.
October 26, 2014 at 10:47 pm
that last line says enough…i love the fresh smell after the rain…and it is pretty cool that it is the smell that reminds you of them….keep dancing…
October 27, 2014 at 2:59 am
Even as male.. i can identify with the melancholic sentiments.. here.. as there have been people in my life that WILL lie and deceive attempting to do it straight eyed.. but never passing the purview of my piercing eyes.. that always see lies.. before the words even come…
What makes me know there are miracles in life.. is my wife.. has never lied in 25 years.. to ever hurt anyone.. so angels do exist.. and not to say.. that she does not give me a little hell everyday…;)
But the truth means so much to me..
i will literally walk through to keep it true..:) so that part of our marriage is realistically no trouble at all.. and i have never had a melancholic day over the love of a wife.. in 25 years..so that’s saying something about true miracles in life.. not to mention she stayed.. when i lost all of my humanity.. through my 5 to 7 years.. of severe illness…..
So anyway.. that my friend.. is what your words inspired in me today.. glad i checked back to see if any dVerse’S are added in later..:)tonight.. after a long night and day.. in many other paths of offline life..:)
October 27, 2014 at 5:26 am
The world of relationships is complicated.. Mostly we pass each other… Love the almost symmetrical form.. And the different way we think about lies.
October 29, 2014 at 1:32 am
So much is evocative–music most of all I find. It can bring up the past or people in a way that little else can. Your poem reminds me of that. Thanks. k.