Marco's Blog

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en eo


2005-01-17 1 min read Months in the City marco

oh, how i love this wondrous city,
atlantis on the rocks;
one third is ocean spray,
uncommon sense another,
the rest, the hottest fruits.

look, how it hurt to live its winter season,
the aches, the pains, the treasons and betrayals;
and yet, awake, gone are those worries;
would i drown in the sea of sun
that cascades through the window.

that little twig seemed dead ten days ago
robbed by the chill of any little life
it might have thought it might have had
lonely, bitter, dry, unhappy
that’s what it seemed to me.

look at it now! that little twig is a giant at bloom, the rite of spring,
full of blossoms, of fragrance, of color
of life, of being, of lust and of passion
just like a picture of me!

i open the window, i think i might fly
so light is my heart in the heat of the light
i open the window, i think i might howl
so powerful sense i the new in the sky

peace i needed
peace i got

and now, the sunshine burns my skin,
and smells like a new life
my body aches for motion.