"The Extreme Sea of Solitude"

Words are thinning..
getting older and older.
The incensed sticks are accompanying
my musing and cloudy moods.
They are also thinning… and meanwhile…
I breathe…close to them,
pushing the smoke horizontally,
as if subverting the vertical ondulation.
Seems that words also wave in ondulations,
but much more into other´s consciousness.
Alerting….
Caressing…
Rushing….
Tantalizing….
Encouraging…
their looking into my Essence.
So vain!
So naïve….

They do not beleive me,
when I state that words smell…
Yes, they do.
There is a related world of scents to the thoughts..
a prison of experiences coming from the birthing,
the pungency of the first human sounds coupled with….
blood and tears.
So salty..
The sea is talking in many forms..
so it is salty, weeded, wet, lacrimous.
Then, I feel…
that for me is Life and Solitude,
in the extreme.
The body is sugared, acid, rusty, smoked, clayed….
and again, other´s bodies…other´s words.
Inhabitants of the “Extreme Sea of Solitude”.

They do not beleive me me when I tell them,
that I can smell their souls.
And hear their pores,
and see their bones,
and touch their auras of indifference…
the “Extreme Sea of Solitude”.
Rosa

"The Extreme Sea of Solitude"

RosaCobos

Bilbao, Spain

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