Tu poesia

Poetry

Una cosa que debería ser

y aún es

al mismo tiempo.

Your temptation and mine

a celestial dance

between your lips

my mind

your hips

a profusion of sweat.

Work.

That’s what it is.

A labor of color

time

a few traces of eyeliner

an inclination to hit something

soft like a bumble bee’s flutter

un zumbido

que corre por mis pelos

standing on attention

like fear’s makeup

that cocktail of testosterone

adrenaline and coals half-cooked.

Your poetry is inescapable.

A truth that burrows

under my nails

with yesterday’s stones

nitrates that fuel photosynthesis

potassium that prevents prolonged cramps

in my mind. Your poetry is a dead fish

permeating my skin

with fumes of life’s delicacy. Your poetry is

my strength.

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