I want to remember
this conjunction, this manly eclipse,
as the night we rided onwards,
as the day that we roamed in the green grasses
of youthful bubbly mountains.

I want to love
this spine full of colors,
that even when my throat was full with sorrow,
that my heart wanted to drink your favorite wine
just to feel anything that doesn't tastes
like the dust of my memories...
...I want to love it,
because it waters me with pink emotion.

I need to keep engraved in bronze and iron
inside the eye of my head
the day in which the playful land of my skin
opened up
and
thirsty
yet
graceful
vibrated in purple elipsis
the tornados that the rageful Sun
created around your skin.

I am him, the Moon.
I am the silver Lining,
I am the cat of fire that roams
inside the death of all that is reborn.

You are her, The Sun.
The fire that licks and nourishes the marrow
inside my teeth,
making me feel like a mixture,
of cotton candy muscles,
and honey for blood.

I love my joints,
and now,
each one of it has a new letter in
a
new alphabet,
in which I will write,
from now on,
the story of love
in which I will caress
each voice,
as in the days of purest sprites,
as in the long woods of my homeland.

I thank you.
Will not miss you.
Will respect you.

I am the wolf that turns into the phoenix
inside the belly of the beautiful jeweled
bride.