When you get angry with me and your anger reaches the branches of nearby trees also
bananas, gnarled and naked
that mark a path back
Cochin,
seas with waves and curls as scrolls Ionic
when all this happens and I hate to hate the cyclops Polyphemus Odysseus professed,
I can not!
When you look me without seeing me,
because your gaze is lost in your thoughts
and glimpse the emptiness of my loneliness in them,
and I speak and not listen to me and I pray
and answer me with silence when all that happens
and I hate you professed hatred with the Argonaut Jason Medea,
I can not!
roots have atrophied my hatred on the ground
and it only germinates in love so abysmal, that filaments
splits as
and tangled jungle vines tangled love in your heart.
Dalianegra Mayte.
Painting: "Medea", 1868, Frederick Sandys.
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