I'm not a breast
nursing
the fruit of her womb. Not
are weak and delicate flesh,
born to be touched.
are no smiles in that gray days
shines on my face. I'm not laughing
that fills the air when the sky gets dark and apparently
lost hope.
I'm not the creature who cries and despairs
if the world does not accept it.
I'm not the snake that tempts you
, seductive, and he hurts you with poison
light hidden in the body. Not only is this
.
but I'm a blue moon shining
melancholy
but delightful.
shines with reflected light,
donated by a sun that rules the world. Only in darkness
I lie awake ...
A inventing dreams
to build tomorrow,
to rock gently
the man who falls asleep.
Unaware he closes his eyes and does not know
my light that shines with power.
(c) Eleanor Grana, 2009
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