Transatlantic (Transocéanica)


I'm on this transatlantic flight
listening to your melancholic verses,
letting the sound of your voice
bring you in the most
energetic way

You gave me your sleeping pills,
you gave me your synthetic oracle,
strange method
of drowning thirst, here
far of your tears,

and we don't remember
to what point we were born for it,
nor all the love
what we have access to

Nothing seems to turn the page
for this desire,
it's everything but languid,
What's the logic for your magnificent mouth to open for mine?

Give me calm, give me vertigo,
come fill the few splendid hours of mine,
strange method
of drowning thirst, here
far from your tears

Submitted by rocio_alen on Sat, 05/05/2012 - 18:41