#RetoAgosto Día 10. Vacaciones en familia. (Marysb)






It was red.

Dublin was red,

Like your dress four years ago,

Bathed in the eulogy of pain and mild happiness.

In the beauty of a million faces you saw me,

Swimming to the flow of the drill, the drill,

Drilling my brain, dripping

A trinity of drops calling your name

In the rain, our laugh was louder than us,

Drowning in the echoes of a pessimistic umbrella:

And we danced.

Drinking the dark foamish poison of intimate conversation,

Lost in the solitude of four walls (or five)

Peeing the faces of those around us, wet:

We danced.

I think, Gosh, you are beautiful,

Hoping my thoughts could heal your broken image,


Silent while you touched my leg,


We hear the music, we hear the rain, drizzling

In the secretive sacred distance of the city,

<<Are you Spanish? Yeah, yes>>


The night hurts,

You hurt,

I hurt,

Dublin hurts,

Our cheeks burned the remains of our ages

And in your weeping I swayed,

We cannot be the plural of two sets of eyes

I know this to be quite right, but still

It hurts.

You went home,

I stayed

counting how many times your lips turned as red

As the wee cherry salad

we shared in the cinema of the real,

I could embrace your tears, and make them mine.

Fine bed linens called both our names,

Yours I reckon, aesthetically pleasing

Amid our formal intercourse, the bed,

Dismissing the armchairs where we sat in silence,

While you opened the double window

inviting me to die,

Inviting Dublin to come in and dance with us,

And I did, fuck, sure

I died of a memory of you, me, and a childish iPhone

In the lonesome west,

In the platitude of two kisses,

You set the boundaries of familial care,

And in the saddest goodbye I kept dancing

In an eternal holiday of beer, connecting imaginary threads, dancing

for I know that

O’Donahue will remember that once, Dublin,

Saw us dance.


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