“No cure for love”


 

 

No cure for Love.

In the tar pits of blasphemy and disappointment.
I tried to forget a woman’s face and green eyes.
I tried to forget those long beautiful and soft legs.
I tried to erode the memory of her beautiful body.

 

Leonard Cohen is playing “No cure for love.”
I sat alone in the back of a Texas dance hall.

 

The restrains of grief and my frigid heart rendered me
merciless and cold.
I dance on nails now and
pain become a pleasure.
Allowing a trace of emotion to appear rarely.

 

I was filled with the cancer of disappointment.
Left hopeless and barren.
Now the twilight deepen.

 

I sat on the sideline of hopelessness.
Waiting for one damn reason to keep going forward.

 

A sensuous and beautiful lady whispered.
Sweet and spiritual words.

 

“My Poet.
Rest with me my love.
Let’s find a secret hostel.
Where two can unite against the world.”

 

Her perfume intoxicated my senses
and my emotions and desires begin to maneuver to hope and wishes.
Her sweet smell of lilies began to awake
my impoverished heart.

 

She took me to the dance floor and
we did the Texas two-step.
Slow and easy.

 

Her sweet voice whispers to me.
“I’m here.
I have tasted pain.
Swam in the misery of disappointment.”

 

“Tonight we must redeem our heart and soul.”

 

She gave me a soft gentle kiss.
Laid her head onto my chest.
She looked into my eyes.
Her blue eyes kind and gentle.
Even the un-lucky can find love.
She told me.

 

“We must create a bridge.
Based on the real things that are important.
Make only true promises.
We expect to accomplish.”

 

We sat by the Austin river.
The Texas sun was appearing from the east.

 

A broken man and a lady who lost her wings.

 

Today we begin a new dance.
In the paradise of love and emotion.

 

The sweet woman told me.
“We must live through hell
to know love.”

 

I brought her closer and
I whispered “Thank you
and love takes time.”

 

I kissed her sweet lips and
I brought her close to me.

 

I whispered.
“We must strive to be kind and
Maybe the splendor of love.
Will come back into our heart and soul? ”

I taste

Coyote
1991

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