Amante VIII

Absence makes hearts
frenético querido,
from the first tight clasp
of searching eyes, budding
vistazos waiting

until day is vanquished
and twilight drips orange,
melting the day, settling
among trees nodding branches,

laughing at us, mi amor,
our savage comedia humana,
las danzas and our mouths
kissing chaos gladly.

From the window traffic
whooshes, vies with moans
like violins rising, woodwinds
sighing. The rhythm bumps us
as one cacophonous drum,
beating

Amante, Amante,

the train screams
with us. Ahora paz.
La noche exudes absence,
whispers secret names,
yields silence.

Intimidad.
Fingertips touch.