Friday, September 25, 2009

Elia Casillas


I don’t want tequila for my mourning
the extensive sea is small
when its finger comes to reproach me
What this sore does not have hardship
the scar will come
the time gave its promise of man just
And what beat so inside
and we is no inkpot
nor clean leaf
I am dying to me followed
the neck I raise
but the will does not touch the face
Today what
This fall does not have bottom
its love came and was
It left to candy the thighs
and a good bye dateless
In the mailbox of my live
Destiny now I do not offer
they see with your sword
and acquittal this cross of the hand to believe
that forgetfulness is not aim
that the heart lost the last shield
and still it breathes
I think I am here
and in another foot
I look for the following step
in prong that expands wounded
Then what drinks
if the body is drunk
and it does not walk

Sonorous Navojoa, October 3 of the 2005


If it watches east body silence,
only taken root silence.
As if a taciturn river,
it lived in my thoughts.
And that suddenly endless hollow footpath,
with its nomadic figure without you,
And I With take customary to the sighs.
In the Earth passion I gather tracks,
in order to follow here.
Their tracks are mine,
like the solitude that left in my nest.
Because you planted each word
with humour and comma,
it brought wings and a cloud in the hands,
so that it flew resting to me in the moon.
Crossing at night,
walked the sundown with escort of ghosts,
looking for its word between birds,
where the dream falls and in the ardour of the cats.
I discovered fire silver plated in the sky,
fire and salt in the skin,
you with me, me without you.
Faithful to its laughter with the body to the air,
fitting dawns goodbyes
powder and meat in you.
Destiny ¿why to worry farewell,
with what hand you wrote - good bye,
It was urgent to fill book of disliked,
or it was more of your jokes?
None counter sun and avenue
without you; I am naked woman without me

Sonorous Navojoa. September 25 of the 2005


I sent your name in hecatombs
underneath the branches
in isolation
and delirium
with emaciated sorcerer
in the sun
in viewpoints that armed lemurs
where sparing encumber its leaf of silver
I was with stars
and deranged times
cutting pride to the soul
In vain

Ally of the hawk
with nails in the belly I shouted
in all the forms in which that word exists
I was letter of the stream
ohhhh poem writing its failure
the acoustics returned without soul
the north by answer came with army of wolves
and in smoke dance
it opened to the winter the guitar of Sabina
a Christ and two candles
they encamped in my battered fear

Without your scent without wake
nor skin I formed into a ball
and in the apple tree bitterness grew
death behind bitterness
that night were no birds
the dismal crickets in march
they broke the fog of Joaquin
without letter nor astrolabe
the hands were woman
and it prorogues
book where the destiny left followed abbreviations
that they only read wizards

that did not accept suicidal
nor walker of border

Manual exact it alleviated a heart
lost in the keyboard
with biography in backward movement
it saw readings of the ocean meteorites
and the planets that were turned
when I opened the first shoe

Bah Who understands the hands
in the top my tears were opened
and the pain was disassembled
it sectioned the chest
and each chip ordered the task
It was not necessary to question misery
or rouse
alive or extinguished
in each wound it brought forth a train
rails of you do not forget to me
Although you die

Navojoa, Sonant. February 9 of 2007

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