White hot homeless men
with crossed fingers in the lost
barrios of Barcelona
make chills in the shadows
and
In the red air
with the salty blows
of sea chant
I kiss your wet forehead
Well-liquored in broken languages
Giants all of us
Dancing in the wasted ashes
of whatever rosy bars
This must be where the homesick find
warm corners
and
Sleep.
This must be where sad lovers
touch hands and sing
each others names
inside
the skylines of stone angels
This is where your
vanishing heart fell on the floor
and you blushing
had to watch me hold it
This must be where I die in the slowly somedays
Something will change
or I’ll sell my blue veins
and last teeth
for a castle carved in
the hills
and let your cool snake tongue
slip in my American bloody mouth
Then
All the slow tortured deaths
in the world
will seem like tickle fights
between dumb children
Take me through the streets
poor streets
Spanish angel
I taste history in your
wine breath
I promise in blood never
to promise again
if we bury each other
in the used sand
and never set foot in the
cities
again
This will be where I die
feeling the
heavy of your
eyes
burning my chest
the same someday
slowly.
Then all the slow
tortured deaths
of the world will
seem like a lost lustful trick
played on strange strangers.
Fill me up with hot air
and hope for
Fill me up with hot air
and hope to
god
I don't fall