An Iberian river embraces Mekong dreams
My whole body flows into Phnom Penh
The hand reaches in the winter air
Duras' hair flies into my fingers.

It the distance nails rasp the future
Tea dresses the slopes of the Tatras
Wind whistles Chopin in the Annapurna
Legs run after it until the exhaustion of memory.

Letters with a touch of incense,
Inebriated books with a bouquet of history
Sweet absence soaked in ginger.

Lullabies and the roar of the earth,
Soul victim of a prohibited bliss,
Maps scrambled to insanity.

A forgotten naked dance,
Druids rejoice in a cromlech by the Yamuna
Atlantic dolphins swim up the Ganges
Imagination descends the slopes to the warmth of certainty,

Desires and answers mixed in tropical thoughts
A colonial face scrutinises the Coromandel coast
Pondicherry and the Indian Ocean fill the day
And yet, madly the light reflects Lisbon in her eyes.
 

M.Daedalus