Assumptions

 


assuming that you
are a fine poet,
that your heart is clean
of those instinctive ideas,

let's take a moment
to live and leave the practice
of having intuitions
and bad feelings,

assuming that your
mind has wings to fly,
assuming that you can grab
a song and sing,
that you have imagination
enough to find
a little piece of peace
into your dreams

but take a moment to
think about yourself
and let's assume that you have
some good taste,

assuming all of these
wonderful things
you may have a chance
to find your life and dance.

 

 


Beautiful flowers,
those dark flowers of blood.
Red roses
bleeding
into the hands of night.
Strange petals growing,
dancing around the park
all tones are floating
inside the body of night;
that strange garden
lost of all lover's touch
shadows between shadows
inside that place
of darkness.

 

 

 

 
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