The Rare Rays In The World
She was a flower
that girl
an angel, a demon, a flower that girl
on her terrace reading
on her balcony reading
on the grass reading
wearing sun glasses
rubbing her bare feet against each other
she ate the literature
like an overweight middle aged woman with depression
looked at people as if whatever was inside her skull
was impenetrable
was relentless, interminable
her life was filled
her life was a true life
jobless
bohemian
smelling good
looking good
her thighs where dangerous
her eyes where captivating predators
her mouth gave promises even when she didn’t speak
and I was there
or almost there
inside my house
cowardly glancing behind the curtain
cowardly hoping
her miracle
to break down my door
or notice me when I walked across
but she never did
she was always somewhere else in her head
all of us where simply shadows
all of us where walk-on parts
in a movie that didn’t interest her
and I wondered behind that curtain of mine
how can someone conquer something
that has already conquered him.
Noel attains a resonance of language.
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