In 84
July
you waited
carnations still on fire
- remember 74 -
soldiers on the street
guilt expiating
ire?
I was a spirit
in free dive
in 84 -
you lingered
and I forgot.
Years have drawn
apart revolutions
in 84
I lost memory
of you waiting
when I was 23
in 84.

Today
I quest
for a name, a shadow.
I keep some
dim likeness of you
but... no print.
Forgive me
if you
still hold a faint grief.
For some reason
I knew
I was no poetry
for your leaf.
Relieve me
from treason.

On this unforseen occasion
words of you
on a leaf of paper
brought the aroma
of carnations,
the overthrow of suspicion.
In 74
were you a soldier,
a troubadour,
a minstrel of reveries?

23
I was
in 84
a basket of tales
a chalice of wine.
My breasts whole
my eyes trails.
A concubine
for life's frails.
In 84
I was
23.


Humberta Araújo