Amanecer

Ella amaneció sobre el sofá de la sala, sola.

La noche había estado especialmente fría.

Ninguna de sus cobijas había sido abrigo suficiente para apaciguar el helaje de la madrugada.Su piel particularmente pálida, había perdido totalmente cualquier asomo de rubor.

Sus manos se aferraban con la firmeza de una escultura a una libreta sin líneas, hecha de papel reciclado con fondo  de color crudo y  textura agradable al tacto, aun olía a libro nuevo.

Ya su último suspiro había decidido buscar mejores horizontes. Su ultimo pensamiento de la madrugada también partió poco después pero este escogió el fondo de aquella libreta como único destino.

Clara huella de aquel escape quedó  en una huella de sangre ennegrecida que se había descolgado por una de las fosas nasales. Por ello la primera historia plasmada en aquella libreta,era una historia de sangre. De sangre y fluidos como los que anuncian una nueva vida.

Amilkar Brunal

Septiembre 2018

Sublimation

  I have sublimated every kiss that I have not given you by wrapping it in ink and paper
  I have sublimated each hug by camouflaging it with gestures of friendship
  I have sublimated the flavor of your body, in another body
  and sublime every night, my need of you closing your eyes with force
  so as not to forget that moment in which I held you in my arms, a moment that can not be anything other than sublime
I sublimate moment by moment, step by step
but I do not abandon the hope of seeing you again, sublime as an Egyptian goddess in stone hieroglyph.

I just can give you a piece of poetry, I know you do not need anything else

Words that take the wind and that perhaps one day you will find forgotten in the drawer of your nightclub or on a shelf powdered by the passage of time once every thousand years.
Words that once made sense that arose in just as fleeting a moment as the passing stars just as fleeting as the moments of irrational passion that you simply let them be.
Words that escape us like a sigh at dusk when you look out the window towards infinity
I only leave you a kiss, an incomplete and imperfect kiss in the material world, but totally full on the transcendental plane, the one that really matters. It thaht   can not be contaminated by the real world.
Words watered with brackish water that you do not let sprout.
But the words and incomplete kisses are no longer enough to say what moves in the chest and I do not care what you think or feel (and I speak to you as if I had some right, or as if you cared), I only care to be able to get everything out of the bowels in the only way possible, face to face, body to body ...


Simply me