Mystery to me

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He's a simple man, complicated, like any man, he loves her, sometimes he fears her, yes, a guy can fear too: incredible?
At night, when he closes his eyes, sometimes her image appears, and he wonders...
Perhaps she's still a mystery to him, and a mystery is good.
But to love her is better, so, without fears or lies, just because he needs her to let the fear fall, like a veil of led.

Like a heavy veil of led.

As the labyrinths vanish
As the puzzles get shattered by the white hot light
As the chronometric god gets neutralized for a while forever.

Just like a scared god of led.

Julio Iglesias once sang "Is happier who loved more", but he doesn't want to be happy.
He wants to be hallucinated. Narcotized, happily lost in her, a black and stray cat in her wet streets?
He wants her to be his labyrinth, for a while and forever, his free will.
His free wheel.

A wheel too fast to be stopped, feedbacked by its own fever.

Because she is foreveryoung to him, forever young, like that pop song, that hit, remember? "Forever Young".
But she's more golden than the song, she, goldener.

Who cares? Who cares if she's golden and young like Aphrodite, or just a common, next door girl?
"Let me be abusive, please, I want to abuse, like a happy animal" he said.

Sometimes the sweet dreampromises of the past return to announce him that he's too alive, and that they are bored of waiting.

And all this was revealed in the nick of time to him, when his closed eyes woke up, leaving the arid land of the sleep behind, land of velvet gods and girls like her.
As the sleep fell, like a heavy veil of led.

I observe them with steely eyes from my steely hill, with the iron cuirass the times gave me: who are they?
Mystery to me.

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