Love was never in your chords
the absent note, your heart and your streets knew of the crazy concert that
tenderness and mirrors and blood available
about the carnival of bodies and
masks of joy, when your hands,
your eyes, your sex, your shoulders, feet,
quetzals, homelands, butterflies, knees,
mouth, yarn, damask, I say, when
the ferrous drug of your breasts stained
blue winters and capitals, my mouth and femur
gray days, everything, tasted and smelled like
other worlds, then I was a sparrow,
and I went from world to world collecting
the matches fired from your shadow,
that's how little by little your guitar and your feet were
accommodating my circumstances and
debts of the days were in your pupils and
in mine saved saved and love
the light was measured in the mirror and you loved me
then as if you had never loved,
and I loved you as if I had never said the
word love