Amante IX

Amor falls its rain on us, querida.
Kisses soothe cooling drops upon my neck.
How the fingernail moon smiles mi vida,
as if to sing that it is at our beck
and call. We need only to watch the sky,
to breathe against the madre flesh of night,
and know that morning whispers by and by
of oranges and sun, the day alight
with hope amante, uncurling the dawn
as promises, as flowers want to bloom,
their petals laughing at each sleepy yawn
awakening within our tiny room.
We celebrate another day, renew
this happiness, our new dreams. Solo tu.