CerVantes

... and with you,
I need restraint,
more than anything...
because you
tilt at windmills
and joust
with bulldozers.

you enjoy
a bout,
a contest,
a sport.

but oh,
you are tender!
like an exposed nerve
not to be touched!
so hurt,
in such pain,
so much rain...
a monsoon.

you hide in
your armor,
so thick, spiny,
barbed and poisonous.

only your eyes
look out
from deep within

they ask
for something,
I fear,
I cannot give.

so the giants
whose arms
spin in the wind,
and the crumbling lives
in the tread
pressed trenches,
are your
sanctuary
from the pain
of wounds
and of scars
too deep to mend.

I can't pretend
to conquer those beasts,
that howl and moan
for your blood.

but your eyes
have pierced
my very heart.
it is burnt,
and branded
with two dark,
sorrowful,
inky and
indelible stains.

there's no forgetting you.

so, if I chase you,
you'll run
like a cat in the yard,
but if I stand still
and just let you be,
you might come
and warm up to me.



(Illustration by Vladimir Kush)