Today was the first time I sold my soul and will be the last one.

My threshold keeps tumbling in my ears

trying to trap the clear air…

I don’t know if I am making sense 

but whatever I say is falling through the cracks of this house, 

of this cheeks and flesh:

body of violin, body of air.

 

I have written this poem thousands of times

the same way I have fallen in love 

and everything keeps setting down in eternity.

Things fall apart, me too.

 

Dream about me when you pray in the morning

park your car correctly, keep writing that phone

don’t stop smiling even in the winter, even if you only have less than twenty four hours to submit a poem.

 

I am under her foot

and her tangerine hair reminds me of a story

that I can’t recall but it was sad because i wasn’t there.

She is evil, talks with the thunder of her teeth but I still love her.

Name of monarchy she had. I wanted freedom. Behead her!

I don’t have anything else to hold on,

I have tried to move with her.

 

If everything has been a truth behind this moment

then you keep living in my mind. 

And maybe you can’t travel through subspace highways 

(which is disappointing)

but I still fear you with the same force with which I love you. 

I am trapped in your heart and in between this lines.

Tonight you will wake up from your lie.

I just a want to live by for this life 

and say your name:

 

I don’t even know what I love about her. It is not her eyes

it isn’t her voice or anything new.

 

Probably are her cracks

 

similar to mine

 

Her sound

 

Similar to a violin played by clear air.