Author: nataliebotero

 

I was around people like me

Everywhere I went.

 

My heavy-happy eyes

Did not dart,

Did not circumvent

 

That there were people like me

Everywhere I went.

                       –inspired by Pablo Neruda

Drink from me

As from a well.

I’d have you as my child.

I would do it all over again.

 

As the circle moves me

In currents of pain,

I want this time

To prepare you.

 

I bought you roses of intoxication

So to practice on me.

A fragrance of self-gain and vanity.

You must see, As i let

you go free

A possession so excessive

Only loves conditionally.

 

Drink from me

As from a well.

I’ll let the poison

Keep you sleeping

While I hold you,

Corrupted from your essence 

 

Something this is known:

That somethings so beautiful

Are easy to possess.

Craft and art of mine,

It must be so naively that you trust,

That you return to depending.

I am not what you think

I pray you don’t think too much.

 

Staying awake,

I fear the doves in your soul

That Lift up as you sleep.

They say there must be

something you want to do,

But not with me.

If you had the mind,

You would do something differently

 

In the morning

When the doves do not return

You will see your own soul has burned

Into the fragile fragrance of a slow

Burning flame

 

Because touch is all I have

I don’t believe I

give you much.

Just as Love is sacred,

my love is

No church.

It would happen again.

It would only hurt.

Sunday is yet to be announced

I notice there are more sirens

In the neighborhood

 

Love, in a spiritual way,

                                           Is the delectable sweetness,

                                           Liquid Gold of a feeling.

 

To be on foreign soil

Daisies, oh daisies

Push, pull, saunter, hum, relax, swivel

Shake…….come back

Dusk, a real show

How poetry recites itself.

 

In the style of

The wind, who is

The only one that speaks

Contained in horns and sirens

A poet’s relief

If the page comes too loud.

As young we were,

Of course,

There would be friends.

Friendships to make ships sail,

And speak in play and rhyme,

Before maturity, our due course,

Caught up with us in time.

 

 

Now flying high,

Her eyes already

Know the book

She’s writing of her life.

It points sails due North,

Of course,

Where new friends and joy

Are ripe!

 A cymbal sassed and blaring horns

Wind like clear whips with strands

Jarred her senses.

The visceral content of the moment,

Secret from friends,

Announcing what has been happening

This past year.

 

Having enjoyed the closest connection

Of her life, yet with the tiny detail

Of his absence taken for granted.

 

She felt the cold of fainting

And a hot star imploding in her softer belly

Finally, a crown of gold, though

like pins and needles.

 

She feared this, she forgot,

She fell home in bed at night

Laughing and smiling all alone.

She now regretted the long time

she dodged good advice.

 

He’s gone. Slipped out, a perfect exit.

His true colors flying like flags

In the sudden wind.