on miscomunication i want to say it aloud in a way never said before
hopeful you would understand it better
that what was pronounced i could not tell
by word or gesture
as a secret or a revelation
a gift or remains of shadows past

as being so used to loneliness
we fail to communicate it to
each other in between symbols and languages
and time without text

sometimes your skin speaks to me
any silent and distant invocation
a laugh, a grunt, as we do no touch
as we shut up in the dark

as creatures who do not overlap
textures and realms of proper semantics
we surrender to the sound of nonsense
being dropped at our feets
and we erase from the wind the whisper
from the water the waves
me eavesdropping on your heartbeats
you putting me in your painting

we manage to hear night and days passing by
in ambiguity
in mistaken desire and protection
in encoded mystery
in foreign tongues.  ¶ 2:24 da tarde