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poetry in motion

ella estalló el vino feroz
déme el hambre
del sol ni de estrellas
disparando para arriba, cayendo abajo
mi amor verdadero de su almohadilla se levantó
todos dentro y todos sin mí
dígame menos o dígame más
ciudad que no es una ciudad
cuando, lleno de amor caliente e impaciente
no permanezca no más
amé a mujer
todavía su gris oscila la torre sobre el mar
cuando voy de nuevo a la tierra
todo mi amor para mi dulce

 



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