Inclinado en una tarde sombría,
Entre tinieblas y la falta de calor,
Te solté como un pájaro nocturno
Y te vi volar entre las primeras
Estrellas que centellan tú llegada
Como mi alma cuando la tocastes
Por primate vez Amor mío.

Y aunque fui yo quien te solté,
Eh ido marcando con antorchas
Tu llegada inesperada.

Tengo historias que contarte,
Comida para enseñarte,
Besos que regalarte,
Callados, delirantes
Se pierden en este pueblo
En donde te amaba.

Oh mi vida,
Entre el silencio que me arropa
Y la voz algo se va muriendo,
Algo de angustia y olvido,
Algo entre las nubes y las estrellas,
Algo como la caída de un árbol.

Sin embargo, mis cuerdas vocales
Se bañan entren estas palabras fugaces,
Algo canta entre señales de humo,
Gritar, cantar, huir entre hojas
Marchitas del invierno.

Tú estás aquí, tú no huyes,
Tú me responderás hasta el último grito,
Sin embargo, alguna vez vi como corría
La tristeza debajo de las olas de tus ojos,
Y mi todo, apenas quedan gotas temblando.

Y triste y fuerte amor mío,
Que haces de repente que no llegas?

In late afternoons,
When the sky isn’t as
Forgotten by the bystanders
That walk the sidewalks
And the more fortunate
That drive the streets
God turns into a magnificent painter,
With oranges and blues and whites
On the blank canvas,
He lets you know how talented
He is with a brush,

I don’t believe in god,
I’m not a good Shepherd
Or the sheep.

But, do you see the color
Of the sky
When it’s the sun’s turn to sleep?

And do you see these hands?
They have loved and hurt,
They have cooked and baked
They have opened and closed doors,
They have demolished the distances
Of all that is land and sea.
yet,
They stop in between celestial change,
To observe an artist at work.

I’ll sit,
Unsatisfied In the well
In which I dug myself in,
With nothing but these hands
That I have done so much with
And the sky that while
Being turned into another museum piece,
signals me another night.

I’ll find you in another life
I promise

Isn't it ironic
how it is out of fear
for losing someone that stops us
from attaining them.

But it was the past
And I didn’t care too much
I had my chance
This was a dance
Thank you for calling me off the wall-
You are a favorite memory
So the story goes
You are a favorite memory
Thank you for calling me off the wall-
This was a dance
I had my chance
And I didn’t care too much
But it was the past

i have been trying to make
peace with some things
i have been trying to
let go of lately
i have held on so
dreadfully/delightfully
to the essence of all
that becomes you
it sits in my heart
the place i go to
when i think about the end
a rocking chair on a quiet
porch
this momentum will
last forever
you’ll have the version of
me from last october
until loyalty becomes
a conflict
i want shared custody of
the versions of us we bore
together

I no longer love you,
but in recollection
I would still use
as many words as before.