Saturday, October 10, 2009

Eugenia Sanchez Nieto

Someone moves discreetly in the night
he smokes deeply while the sound of a harmonica
seeps into bodies and walls
the proximity of an unknown being observing the hills
would frighten off at night any serene soul.
Sudden moves startle my rest
my galloping heart throws me down
a clumsy woman comes out into the corridor
beings of night people my space
absolute stillness, shining eyes pursue the shadow
I advance, I advance
I kick red apples that roll as I pass.
Someone at the back of the room
under the light of the moon writes:
Give yourself up to the man positioned in your room
I am the night you are solitude
desire is a tree in which light drowns
all that we possess is in this fire

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