El Amante

My melancholy turns to gold dust in your soft and tender hands upon your fingers I scatter my life my love remains clasped in your hands now I am a vial of cologne, emptied... I yearn to see your lissome creeper how it clings to cracks on the walk well, just as it entwines the cement altar Mi amor, that is how I yearn to embrace your heart I used to stumble, now I am sustained in you... This night I yearn and sigh for you to see you sleep, hands on your chest sinking into our bed like rosy fruit from smooth pastures into the depths of our mattress as the air enters your chest and raises it chastely... Amante, steal away to me in the night we will see how peacefully the moon rays create quiet waves without unsettling the hush just as it passes into the gulf is the way I yearn to sink to the very bottom of your soul... Fly to me from your snow white orchards you love is ever so immaculate my naked soul will tremble in your hands...