Andres

Porque no podre quedar contigo; lo siento.
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Make of me a thousand paper cranes;
of shadow and labored breath,
of the Lethe's water in your eyes,
of youth and moonlight
and the whispers between my knees;
of spiders silk and
hunger,
of words my mouth never learned,
of tangled limbs and salty fear,
or the dust between our lips.

If I unfolded a city in the sky
and carried you on an orange blossom breeze
to all the women I could be with you,

Would you know me in a siren's song?
Would you stay with me
here?