a place of passage

I watch you in a hotel

a place of passage

the shadows stretched into geometric patterns

I watch you through the window

bare feet

the fabric draped over the shoulder

like the folds of sheets

I wander around the room

I sit on the floor

and we continue the dialogue

or the silence that also dialogues

(the palpable silence)

can you hear me?

I wonder

or question with my eyes

and you respond with slow blinking eyes

(the doubt under the skin)

I hear you

you, lying in the bathroom

the floor in geometries

like the shadows

the clavicles

the shape of the breasts

(and the anguish)

me, by the window

the invading light

seeking a shared flight

(the fear of falling)

the contours, mine

the sex that awakens

your hand resting

opposite side of the dress that insists on falling off

my hand as a bridge

and the fingers bend, one by one, slowly

as if they were waiting

(the expectation burns)

I can’t stop looking at you

and you almost smile

I smile with my eyes, but when you’re not looking

I wonder if you are waiting for me to leave

but I don’t leave, hoping it’s your will

I remain seated on the floor

we share this intimate place of passage

life is here

time is now

the contours blend

I see you drawn in my watery gaze

when I close my eyes tightly

the touch disappears as soon as it happens

and you accept this intimacy

(hesitant)

I feel connected to you

this place

this interval

without afterward

ephemeral, you

ephemeral, me

eternal, the geometries within us