1000 wounds | poetry

Like the smell of rain

Like the stars that never appear

You are bittersweet

Bitter like 1000 sweets

You are sweet like 1000 wounds

Red wine in water

Like the alcohol that leaves the wound clean

And you are like the wind

Whatever wind surrounds you, you do not return

And your lips are thin like a crossing

Like a limit, like a line that defines- 1000 that does not speak

The green sapphires dived into the depths

To bring me the water

And I opened a handful in the shape of a hug

If the water forgets, it would find its boat

Like the cloud that emptied me

But you caught it before it dried

If the water leaves, the ports will have found a station, 1000 I will wander in my open fist

1000 I will empty again, and there I will become again

Knowing what the call commands are

Knowing the flavors of the stations, I will stop looking- I will stop calling.

And if I erase these lines, they will never be written – they will never call.

Did I erase them?