Sunday, July 13, 2014

|| that letter ||

The letter
will arrive and enquire after sorrow

that will wipe off the tears from

the eyes,
the seat of love
in any part
at any restaurant
on any stage
on any bench
when entering any lodge
just as entering any inch, for
but unlike exploring a certain
familiar spot
a record
with data

and the promptness of the postal
the letter

whose words will bridge over time
at times through tearful eyes
at times with dry shivering lips
at times as long, deep and weary
sighs of happiness when
the eyes will quietly fix upon them

having read the words the eyes will
know the wet grief of
the lingering agony of a
muffled and distressing loneliness

that cannot be told to anybody
but to
the very soul of the letter.

(Painting : Isabel Pinheiro)

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