Es otra noche sofocante

Posted on by Iansã

It is another sweltering night. Some
thing is moving on this page. You who can
not be the sun’s right hand or the left thumb
of the goat god Pan, the sun’s blood goat Pan,
you must then be love. The bad love the stars
give, all glitter eyeliner. What began
as a sort of hunger, like the guitar’s
riddle, ended here. A love that is ours
must be a myth. No love is too foreign
to trust. Think of Pan in the woods, singing
the earth alive; and his song is moonlight
and sun. Think of him now, the violent one,
the one you want to be, the one rising
out of this myth to become the hot night.

Axé.

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