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It's the way she holds her head when you talk
The way her eyes light up when she sees a dog
The way her hair frizzes around her head like a halo
The way her body will melt into you when you hold her
She's beautiful

It's the way she talks to the voices in her head
The way she walks
The way she talks
The way she takes care of you

It's the way she holds you when you've had a long day
Or how soothing her voice is when your demons come to play

She's beautiful
But you never told her.
Qué tienes, qué tenemos,
qué nos pasa?
Ay, nuestro amor es una cuerda dura
que nos amarra hiriéndonos
y si queremos
salir de nuestra herida,
nos hace un nuevo nudo y nos condena
a desangramos y quemarnos juntos.
Qué tienes? Yo te miro
y no hallo nada en ti sino dos ojos
como todos los ojos, una boca
perdida entre mil bocas que besé, más hermosas,
un cuerpo igual a los que resbalaron
bajo mi cuerpo sin dejar memoria.
Y qué vacía por el mundo ibas
como una jarra de color de trigo
sin aire, sin sonido, sin substancia!
Yo busqué en vano en ti
profundidad para mis brazos
que excavan, sin cesar, bajo la tierra:
bajo tu piel, bajo tus ojos
bajo tu doble pecho levantado
una corriente de orden cristalino
que no sabe por qué corre cantando.
Por qué, por qué, por qué,
amor mío, por qué?
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
My thoughts are crabbed and sallow,
My tears like vinegar,
Or the bitter blinking yellow
Of an acetic star.

Tonight the caustic wind, love,
Gossips late and soon,
And I wear the wry-faced pucker of
The sour lemon moon.

While like an early summer plum,
Puny, green, and ****,
Droops upon its wizened stem
My lean, unripened heart.
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"
grief is fingernails in your palm
when you're standing in a public restroom
wondering why everything feels wrong.

grief is not having worn mascara for four months
because streaked ink-black cheeks isn't a look
you want to be known for.

grief is dancing on the verge of tears
in a math class, because your mind wanders
too often and death looms too large to avoid.
i can't write anymore
have patience with me darling
i am tattered rags
i am shredded linen
ive sticthed myself
piece by piece
but i am stilled ragged at the edges
Will you still love my brokenness
Will you still caress my soul
As if
It where brand new
Baby i am broken
I am
Hand me downs
Given to the less fortunate
One size too small
One size too big
i can still satisfy
I can still keep you warm
On the cold nights when all you have is your bear skin
Covering your shivering soul
When your bones rattle together
I will unfold myself upon you
I will become your home
When you are left out on the pouring rain
But baby
I am broken
I won't guarantee that rain drops won't drip through
From the holes left in me
But we will gather pots and pans and collect the water dripping from me
and turn it into holy water
pure enough for us to drink
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