Inútil registro / Luis Enrique Belmonte

Useless Register


It’s here, it’s here, this is where the light renews itself.
ANTONIO RAMOS ROSA


There’s an intimate sigh
A returned glance
where your hands left their flakes
Very close to the face a mirror broken by so much waiting
And also the rust that stains pocket knives scissors and locks
The insect that sucks light from the light bulb
The babbling of what resists its own disappearance
The eyelash tangled in a whirlwind of dust
The ochre cummulus in an old man’s beard
The lost thread
The fluff of a suit that was never worn
          and which slowly shrinks little by little
The letters of your name
rubbing themselves in a mosquito’s feet

Give a pale jump
over the splinters of a faded sun
toward the matter that resists
and transforms itself.




Paso en falso (2004)




{ Luis Enrique Belmonte, Pasadizo: Poesía reunida 1994-2006, Caracas: Monte Ávila Editores, 2009 }