Regression

One phobia on each face

I saw yourself emerging from the ground

You rifled through patiently

the trunk of my memories

There are a thousand goblins

I see them dancing and they never stop spinning in the air.

Are you aware of that?

You know it well: it is your reality

It could be magnificent ideas

or maybe foolish advices

Startled, I wake up by nite in silence and i glimpse you smiling in a distant dream

And I find no explanation

And I go mad

needing help, please.

It's a strange regression

A frank confusion

A concrete dimension

That opens doors to snoop your lips

A strange regression

A meager concoction

A fresh insinuation

that only serves to kill

Illusory answers

Wrapped, not warmed.

Phantasmagoric fins

of winged divers in a growing room

If only there were a drop of formaldehyde inside of me.

Allegories and fetishes that take me without control

To a usual regression

To a hypocritical confusion

To an ethereal dimension

That closes doors to yearn your hips.

A familiar regression

An honorable concoction

An arid exhibition

That only serves to adore your scar.