I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.

Then love knew it was called love. And when I lifted my eyes to your name, suddenly your heart showed me my way

Sufre mas el que espera siempre que aquel que nunca espero a nadie? Does he who is always waiting suffer more than he who’s never waited for anyone?

Whom can I ask what I came to make happen in this world? Why do I move without wanting to, why am I not able to sit still? Why do I go rolling without wheels, flying without wings or feathers, and why did I decide to migrate if my bones live in Chile?

Then Scale by scale, We strip off The delicacy And eat The peaceful mush Of its green heart.

Loving is a journey with water and with stars, with smothered air and abrupt storms of flour: loving is a clash of lightning-bolts and two bodies defeated by a single drop of honey.

Like them you are tall and taciturn, and you are sad, all at once, like a voyage.