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If You Cannot See The Sun

If you cannot see the sun

If you cannot taste her beauty

The girl whose voice is rich as stars

Her beauty sharp as blood-red roses

Her lips soft and berry-ripe

Her eyes round like sad kisses

Juice of fruit squeezing softly

Warm wet deliciousness


I never asked if I should live

I never asked if you should live

I never asked you or I to live

As I try to kiss the Moon

As your lips seem to be the Moon

And your eyes enter Her eternity

And your soft silk envelops everything


That was what I found it was

So different from all they had told me

I didn`t love the boxes and stairs

I loved her hair and her perfume

And I loved the sun, the moon, and stars,

And translucent water in a pool,

And music drifting through the air

Like coloured ripples in visible ether

I did not love the square staircase

Nor the trumpet-lies nor guns


Tim Cloudsley nació Cambridge, Inglaterra. Es sociologo, escritor y poeta. Trabajó como profesor en la Escuela de Idiomas, de la Universidad Industrial de Santander, Bucaramanga en el ámbito de estudios culturales y literatura.

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