“A Wish” Day 4: NAPO 2020

I would clear your path for a flight at night,
so you would find the secret space where dreams are made,
where bodies touch their wings and
lock themselves together
forever with joy
in a circle of images that ascend with the slowness of hours
burned to the rhythm of your heart.

“Spring” Day 3: NAPO 2020

She wears a golden face in
the intimacy of her rain,
it’s as much in light as in shadow
through the countryside descending
the purple forest and cities.

Cleaning the dust from our hands,
it falls apart with suns lying in the grass.
The bodies of love have filled their way with our names.

“Childhood Dreams” NAPO Day 2: 2020

The night moves away in
its black silence.
In the burning and
illuminated wind.
It is one more bird,
among birds that sing.
The dawn lifts you
to shine,
with a dream in hand.

“A Bluebird in my Heart” NAPO Day 1: 2020

Like ephemerel kisses dancing in the stars,
my mother gave me gifts, pearls and pretty shoes.
I missed the most important parts;
lies between the truth.

I’ve searched for that little bluebird
to sing a song to me.
A bluebird in my heart.

NAPO 2020

“Deceit” Napo April 30, 2019

A shadow returns to my day.
I feel exterminated by battalions,
they’re numerous when they hide
their faces to bend the arch
making themselves last in the light that oppresses me.
I must be a bird that rises
slowly with half-body fire,
a center where my splendor spreads
to concentrate my moment to drift away.

“Hidden Facts” Napo April 29, 2019

A firefly opens the future.
Months pass sliding color
towards the truth,
the presence of your words
cut your lips in two.
Distilled with time,
those words in the air
are light in my open hand.
A mirage anointed by the love
you have of what is yours.

“Morning” Napo April 28, 2019

The night splits like a broken apple;
creation recommences,
the dawn grows unrivaled
as it presses my memory
and opens it for an instant
with transparent hands.
Everywhere there’s the fantasy
of being between hours
when movement arrives.

“Fog” Napo April 27, 2019

In a time of white pillows
that descends into the night,
rings of calmer waters
flood the messengers of fog
in erected cities
where the air moves
between lost statues
on the light’s path.

“If I were in Love” Napo April 26, 2019

The distance of my skin
covering the fabric of you,
an aromatic porosity of surfaces
gradually drinking the substance
of restless suburban madness.
The celebration flowing from darkness
to the light that emerges from inside us
for the morning consummation
where the dreaming can dream.