liquid

for some brief moments,
at times,
everything seems to turn back
to the origin,

and every presence
is but a particular form
of condensation.

we could say
that the most sincere of all
are the skies
that lie above
in all their bloody extension;

or the fields, whose surface
allows the water to expose
in its nudity.

but all that
would be open
to discussion,

because
the trees too,
that appear in pairs
as man and woman,
or infant and mother,

could be considered
to be reduced to their essence
of solitude,
to their inner black sap,
the minimum sustenance
of their geometry.

even the deep asphalt
would have a word to say
in its defense:

because maybe
in its vascular system
the circulation of
former springs
continues;

the memory of the liquid
quick passage of cars
is not extinct;

and even the blood
of those who died
in old crashes

may have left
some traces behind.


voj 2007

Photo: Evita Alle
"Evening"
Thanks to Evita (and to Daniela Kato, who has corrected some aspects of my deficient English)