Poetry

SHE…

It swallowed the sun

On a bright brink of Sunday

During the hours when the ground was just waking,

I saw it through its throat in a journey called by the earth

Only this time it existed in the stomach.

she became fair

With smooth skin and an enchanting aura

That was perceived by the world as a pint of gold.

I was left with more shock than words

And asked my silence what name she bore.

In the evening of the night

I feared my dumbness had swallowed more shock

For she was a resemblance of the sun

Lacking fury and a taste of proud.

I would later find sleep in her golden rays

It touched my face and my thighs,

Sometimes it went below my navel

And when I was close to dive into the waters

Her conscience woke me by my name

Moon.

05/07/2017

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