CHICA DE
Tu mano izquierda toca un acorde
y la derecha se agarra al hueco
y no sé si tu sabes que sé
que al cerrar tus ojos
pierdo palabras,
se me caen de golpe
me quedo a oscuras
sin otro sonido
que mis pulmones
llenos de vida.
Y no sabes si sé que tú sabes
cuánto tiempo llevo aquí,
absorto en tu figura,
tu cintura,
y esos largos brazos
que abrazan sin preguntar.
Chica de paso corto, de pelo largo
de piel sin manchas, de luz de ojos,
de a menos cuarto nos vemos
de hasta mañana en la ventana,
de noches vacías de sueño
y cielos mirando tu almohada.
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THE GIRL OF
Long hair girl, of short steps,
of clean skin, of light of eyes,
of see you at quarter to,
of see you tomorrow by the window,
of days full of dreams
and light sleep of dreams.
Your left hand plays a chord
and the right one holds on the hole
and I don’t know if you know that I know
that when you close your eyes
I lose words,
they fall suddenly
I remain in darkness
with no other sound
that my lungs
full of life.
And you don’t know if I know that you know
how long I have been here,
engrossed in you figure,
your waist,
and those long arms
that embrace without posing questions.
Short steps girl, of long hair
of clean skin, of light of eyes,
of see you at quarter to,
of see you tomorrow by the window,
of nights empty of sleep
and skies watching your pillow.