lunes, 20 de febrero de 2012

Fall (the third dream)

By Oana Avasilichioaei in Abandon

During the night I fall into the fifteenth century

North pole in my navel, eyes smell of forest
lips taste of castle walls,
uncharted explorers plod me with blunt compasses
name me terra incognita
dark to the fact that I don’t belong to names

I could be her
Stephen’s forgotten daughter
I could be the passage
Columbus’ bloody ocean
seething like a pot on a hot fire
We could be discovered

A sailor sees us
mirage on the horizon
Land! Mates, I see it! There! LAND!
Autor(a) desconocido(a). Imagen tomada de aquí.

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