Foram Cardos, Foram Prosas
Manuela Moura Guedes
They Were Thorns, They Were Prose
There's light without a lit flame
But without loving the warmth
There's a flower of a trapped fire
There's the light of my clear love
There are honeysuckles at our feet
And waters wash the face
Fingers you have in reverse
Oh my deposed lover
It wasn't poems or roses
That you gathered in my lap
They were thorns, they were prose
Torn from my soil
Because you still want me
The love we still make
Give me a sign if you can
Let's be supreme lovers
It will always be rising
To the top of you
Just to feel you
It will be at the top of me
That only one body
Exalts its end
