Three Poems

 

 

Why do I write? Perhaps because my alphabet

Avenges itself against the oppressors

Who try to shine their shoes with my inkwell

And this blue wine that just spilled upon my paper

Seems to me the alphabet’s blood

So take it... drink it....

 

For ink is sobriety’s wine.

 

 

I still love you,

In spite of it all

For, at your shores I learned

How to drink moonlight from a seashell.

 

 

Every time you embrace me

I become a virgin again,

I feel it is my wedding night!