I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.

I don't remember, any more,
The exact shape of your hands
As I held them in mine,
Caressed them,
Memorized the length of your fingers,
The depth of your calluses.

I don't remember, any more,
Exactly your height, how much
Taller than me
You were, where
My head rested on your chest
When you held me tightly close.

I don't remember, any more,
Your scent, when we lay together
Creating our own
Magic rhythm,
Matching our heartbeats as we
Touched the sky, together.

I don't remember, any more,
The sound of your voice, calling
My name as though
It were a song
Within itself, a precious treasure
You valued with all your being.

And I don't remember, any more,
The color of your eyes, the shape
Of your lips,
Only...
How your eyes crinkled at the corners
And your laugh, as you told me,

"I love you."

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine

They sit there
And stare.
They think they know me
They don't.
They ask, "why?"
Hell if I know.

And they will never know why.

That's the beginning of my story. It ends the same way.

But before the beginning, I had
hopes, dreams.
Just like every other girl.

"Don't be silly, little girl.
You'll soon grow up and realize
that the world
is one ******. up. place."

Not as ****** up as myself, though.

If an easy rain
would make the rocks slippery,
he would hold my hand.

Trying to sleep,
Really, I'm trying
But thinking of you
I can't help crying
Losing the only thing I knew
But I'll never stop
Thinking of you

She lay beside you
under the apple trees

the bees and butterflies overhead
the glimmer of sunlight

through the branches
and she said

I can smell the apples
from here

and if I close my eyes
I feel I’m in a foreign field

lying in some overseas orchard
and happy beneath the sun

and you turned your head
and said

Am I with you
lying in that orchard

beneath a foreign sun?
and you studied her profile

the shadows dancing
across her cheek

a butterfly just above her head
Sure

she said
As if I’d dream of anywhere

without you by my side
and she reached out a hand

and touched your fingers
with hers and it seemed

a pulse danced
between the fingers

as if love momentarily
could be felt

could be sensed
in the space

between fingers
and riding

in the hearts
and heads

and she turned
to face you

her eyes reflecting
a different sun

and your hand sliding
along her thigh

and she shaking
her head slightly

eased out
a soft sigh.

When life
deals you a rotten hand

I'll be
your joker.