to understand that you're not just
that body or the curly shadow belonging to it
not the words you speak nor the funny gestures of your eyes
to become aware that i would never know your inner self as you
won't either way know mine.

and to breath into that idea while my mind casually imagines
the lightness of a feather, that is still hanging and rocking
and may every day be lifted up
if we both live in accordance to what could be
the simplest condition for love:

to surrender to someone's life
with the constant awareness that you're just not
part of me.

(I
can
only
desire
what
involves
                                                                 mystery).

 y dejaré de silenciarme

hablaré por mi y por las ramas
y por los ojos de los pájaros
y por las formas de las cosas
y por las cosas

todas

mis ojos despertaban abandonados en sí mismos

había un halo de sencillez esparcido

lo que existía 

bajo el umbral ahuecado de mis cejas

era todavía sencillo.

estoy llena de miel
                  [por eso
no me abandonan
las dulces órbitas
de las cosas

Nothing 

can make me believe

I'm something different

from all those rocks 

   - that secretly fix their corners on my cells -

teaching my brain 

the purest

illogical

stories.

just draw

blindly

with your breath 

each one of 

my worn 

fingerprints