A boy with a waistcoat on hand,
a girl with her workout grin
built a complicity
that taught us to love
the way one intuits to mold a vessel
or to use the innocence's edge
to make a chunk of it and
to shatter on it.
That was the first love
A pleasure for betraying us
as we would never do it again,
following the radio's dial
'til we awake one dawn with rancor
dubious against whom or what
That used to be the first love
A time where taking risks
was a duty or a desperation,
and a matter of enjoying life.
Today a wave on the street
saves us from the idioms we use
to wish our separate happiness
But you should know that with you
I was in the place I was supposed to be.
YOU ARE READING
Distentio Animi
PoetryBetween 2011 and 2014, I wrote a set of poems that eventually became a Spanish manuscript titled Talón, part of a three-book series (Talón - Planta - Punta) intended for simultaneous publication. However, my inability to complete the manuscript of P...
