STAYED IN THE PAST

Somewhere in the past
you stayed,
or it was the other way around,
I stayed,
before the abyss of no.
Maybe we were both invisible in that photo
that we didn't take together
in that broken hug,
for fear of the consequence,
in that rehearsed dance
on the walk
in the evening
under the moon
of September,
on the centuries-old stones
from the dead city,
in that irrepressible kiss!

Somewhere in the past
we prefer
the silence,
chance chose the inertia of the body
and the chill
of the hands,
the almost yes of the soul in despair,
we prefer calm and comfort
rational cowardice.

We ran away from Dante's world,
Proustian prose remained
No jealousy,
without life,
without death,
without poetry.

Evan do Carmo