Minna XIV

Sometimes jaded, sometimes tranquil, Your eyes invade the tumult of your face. Your lips are the remnants of a love That made a sunset-cup of your face. The movements of your body Caress the couch you sit on into sound That seems to answer your words. You are restless because upon this couch The cold touch of your lover lies And seeps into you, reaching your heart.

Maxwell Bodenheim

Aprender de memoria: toca un hueco

Sometimes jaded, tranquil,
Your eyes invade the of your face.
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