i hide y under my skin, like an archive of war,
                                                           and wait,
      like a spy that keeps a secret code in his pocket,                      
is not hard at all to carry y with me every day,
every night,
it comes naturally, like drawing, or
dreaming,

because of the blood ties, there is no ******* in the
                                                             ­ heartbeats market,
they
grow
stronger
and stronger
                    without rehearsing the same beat twice,
waiting
            until
                      ​the next wave  will come,  and
tear apart every single cell, and leave like a ghost leaves

*my love,
hiding and escaping is not the same thing