Entro / Luis Alberto Crespo

I enter
through the narrowest door

I speak to you
like that confinement

In the portrait that we are
in the middle of the hall

Where thorns
already ached from before

I know our headless names

I look for you with my finger
in the patio

And feel that eternity




{ Luis Alberto Crespo, Resolana, Caracas: Monte Ávila Editores, 1980 }