Eternity In Seconds

Are the tables still warm and grinning, are the trees still swaying, ocasionally masking the novel signs, and the young friends still re-living Venus' tales under the golden rails?

White smiles lost in dignity, calm steps frantically returning to the tiles they've left behind, nights and days intertwine; sun-lit stars glaring over jugglers of innocent poverty.A couple oblivious to their gender laugh with their hands and point to their souls with their lips, as the final syllable of a borrowed 'hello' falls on charmed ears.Red shirts, black trousers, clinging to the brown frame of olives and veins; look at them with a piety that distrusts its own halo.

Re-born conquerors with the voice of window shoppers walk with the purpose of purpose in their retina and a reason for religion in their thin jacket.Nymphs that forgot to be aged, locked in stares that cling to the spine like the Mediterrenean rolling over white rocks in paternal fury and worship.They cannot read ancient languages, but they write epics of love and triumph, inscribing them unto monuments erected in dreams.

To sit next to the new-born palm tree, with the light of Nature and Life gently profiling your face is to become desire.A desire that does not worry about heartfelt illnesses or dying hours, but merely seeks out other desires, in silence; stillness of creation.When the beautiful passerby's briefly turn their eyes upon you, upon what you are, a dream sacrifices itself next to the heart, embracing the entire body with its bubbling blood full of the wind on the outside.

Drinking is hoping, hoping is to drink.To eat is to be a song, to sing is to eat.What the group of friends with raven hair and fringes like waterfalls know, is the sensation that never ceases to love.

All who celebrate the afternoon's life and death under the napping, mystical streetlights, all live in constant wait, waiting for that hollow wind that will stop time.So they will never be taken away from the gleaming windows proclaiming non-revolutions so charmingly and to always hear the meadowing chatter of the jovial colleagues on the unmasked tables.And their wait is a hope, a faith without needing to be mentioned, and it never leaves them; ah they always hope for their every moment to be every moment! Every second, an eternity.