At bay
At bay, splendid lights die slowly
In a languid sunset, traces of brightness rays
Over which, the sky seems to be infinite
At bay, waves splashing on our faces
Our clothes, soaked
We seem to not care
Far away, a lighthouse
And all city noises, dead
Over the horizon, an infinite blue of possibilities
Shearwaters, warbling
A song of love
At bay, where I seem to find you, my poet
And your wet kisses
By the bay
Where we seem to get lost,
Scarce seconds sliding from our hands
As we seem to be in a hurry
At the bay of all gods, of all lovers,
By the wall of a lighthouse
Those old days of maiden
Long gone
Jocilene Lima 02.02.2015