Friday, October 16, 2009

Eunice Odio


CONSUMMATION
.
Like white nocturnal animals
your arms gather
where my soul beats softly.
.
Your voice
flickers by my side
like a piano of deep silver
simple as—when alone—the sea
arranges shipwrecks of fish and wine
for the next season of water.
.
Then,
my love slides beneath your voice
My sex floods like the world
and holds birds,
.
Doves and naked bodies burst from my breast.
.
Already within you
I cannot find myself,
falling in the path of my body,
.
With a submerged and tender
dense vocation,
With collapsing breath
and final shape.
.
You lead me to my body,
and I arrive,
expanding my womb
.
and its vast dampness,
where gentle mangers grow and white lilies
and a small animal,
suffering and transient.
.
II
.
Ah,
if only I could find you one day
placidly on the verge of my death,
arousing my ear with your love
through which water runs
without re-birth . . .
.
If only I could find you one day
—so close to death and so celestial—
at the border of this slope
all that suddenly remains with the afternoon.
.
Ah,
Comrade,
.
How I love you at times
for your man's name
.
And for my neck where your soul rests.

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