Friday, April 3, 2009

20 love poems and a Song of Despair

Poem 7

Tilted in the afternoon shooting my sad nets
ocean to your eyes.

It stretches and burns in the highest fire
loneliness that turns my arms like a castaway.

I red signal on your eyes absent
Olean to the sea at the edge of a lighthouse.

Guards only darkness my distant female,
Your eyes sometimes emerge espanto coast.

Tilted in the evening echo my sad nets
to the sea that shakes your eyes ocean.

Nocturnal birds pecking the first stars
that flashing my soul when I love you.

Gallops night mare in its grim
spread spikes on the blue field.

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