Obstructed Pure Tone

This house drunk on the joy of restless breath,
happiness obstructed
in healing the pain of secret unions.

Your heart's loud prohibition against entry—
as if shaken by the sound of death.
Fearsome solitude settled in,
where illusion surrendered itself—
this poem's pure voice blocked in you alone.

Each time it takes root in our inner chamber…
passion's—upheaval,
another watch passes in sleeplessness;
come, let's go somewhere else—
everyone in this city is aggressive.

In the tune of your memory, feeling bleeds,
each time love had its beginning,
in the glory of insight—even touch seems trivial.