I Die for Your Mouth
I die for your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent through the streets, I wander hungry.
Bread does not fill me, all day the night makes me suffer,
for the nectar of your footsteps I strive.
I hunger for your dreamlike laughter,
for the color of your hands, like a wild fruit,
hunger for the pale stones of your nails.
I want to eat your skin, like a whole almond.
I want to eat the sunray that flares on your beautiful body,
to eat the nose, sovereign of your solemn face,
I want to eat the fleeting shadow of your eyelashes.
And I roam around hungry, sniffing the dusk,
hunting for you, for your burning heart,
like a puma in the barren Quitratue.
