Prophesy

Love Portugese

Can I open your heart almost,
Like a little can of Sardines is opened by a can opener,
Carving through muscle and vessel.

Can I know that you are unexpirable,
Like the relentless wind,
Or the hungry ocean,

And those eyes, those mahogany irises
That wrap every incoming visual
Scripting Nerudesque love poems

And you, who becomes larger by the minute,
Turning to a great fish, who swims
Inside my pummeling circulation,

While inside the bowel of the fish, is a prophet,
Holding on to a prophesy of what will be,
An expression of my looming fall,
To your savage wilderness,

Deranging my feeble sanity,

And yet summoning me,

Like Nineveh.