Songs I heard that took me places,
in the arms of women perfect as shadows.
Lines I read that whispered in my ear,
watering the dryland that my heart was,
masking its longing for real touches
with a fecundity that propped the inexistent.
I chewed on Ritalin,
my future was the glory of my past,
as unreal as the past itself.
Songs we hear and I watch her go places,
while I live serenely by her breaths.
Lines I speak that whisper in her ears,
watering her fantastic dreams of the past,
while I touch her hand and feel in me
love being propped by the inexistent.
I drown in wine now,
my present a cadaver of my desires,
as unreal as the future of my past.