The Mast is Down

We lay in the cursed grass devoid of magic,
tracing our disintegration to the kinetic sky.
I touched your arm and the flesh fell away,
and my hands were no longer empty.
Our mount is made of blood earth,
when wet a clay thing writhing.
If you breathe in its mouth it will fly
above the Moorish towers into the blue.
The Pinta is a ship the lone navigate,
channeling the mind once beguiled.
I touched your hip, the bone fell away
and the sea was no longer empty.
We love yet reclaim our dark sails,
gorging the belly of a red dog.

Patti Smith
Auguries of Innocence
HarperCollins, 2005

1 comentário:

Luís Costa disse...

Patti Smith, uma cantora-poeta maravilhosa, sem dúvida, que já tive o prazer de ver ao vivo.

Evoé, yes, evoé!