i felt you'd come back,
there's no other way
I know her, she likes to cool off in the soft white snow,
with the hand on my heart, I swear,
at the new moon, you are my only lover,
i see her in your lips, as sharp as fantasy swords,
in them, you have me sweet like blood,
why wait for cactus arms to grow,
and the next flowers to bloom,
cut the juicy, thorny fruit, red pulp,
we won't wait for the pollination,
days are made for farmers, not lovers,
how bright, you write, that want to kiss my photo,
but what a photo is? my love, what? if not just paper,
let's bloom in less than twenty-four hours,
let's make them all, all saguaro flowers, die from jealousy and envy,
with hate and madness to **** the desert,
i'll come at night, disguised (as a mexicano bat)
let's make the night our heaven
and the new moon, a snowflake that falls in your olive eyes
(although, once i loved a man with wolf eyes)