Poetry & Books

I will scrape the walls with my fingernails
I will peel a wooden cross
I wear my red cloak
washing away every sin of mine
and I have a Christ in my heart
a poor bachelor
in the garden with menexe.
Christ I have you, you and me
more than anyone.
My candle melts like snow
my sculpture freezes
caresses and hugs looked like sacred
 
I will scrape the walls with my fingernails
and I will not speak to anyone
I have me
and you have.
What will become a little stigma
if the wish will come true
you fire and the world the wick
to light my candle
 
I will scrape the walls with my fingernails
I will dig wall to wall until I find myself
inside walls I live
and I wonder and I wonder
I wonder about you
I wonder
that I live even more closed.
 
I will scrape the walls with my fingernails
I will dig wall to wall until I find myself
and I walk and I walk
and I keep asking and I keep asking
room to room looking at me
something in the future I chase.
 
I will scrape the walls with my fingernails
my wounded wings
remain silently closed
until my soul comes out to fly
like a scream, like a flash.
I will scrape the walls with my fingernails
you fire and the world the wick
to light my candle
you die alone
and insulated you love
it is forbidden to go