julio simon Poems

The time is short,
and the eternal mysteries,
they will remain.
...

Tightening the eyelids,
I will play,
waiting for them to knock on the door...
...

Perfums of the pink acacia,
a moon crowned with lips of fires.
the silent vision of some bodies,
in a flowery bridge.
...

Feeling the smoothness of the snow,
the steam coming out of my nostrils,
crackling my steps on the ground,
in the solid silence of the night.
...

If the sheets were skins....
and my body,
were those bodies,
I would haunt the bed, .......
...

I love Sunday mornings!

When the city barely babbles softly,
and only some rumors cut the song of the birds.
...

These children sing,
these children dance,
these children laugh.
...