Hablándote

My desire is your hysteria.
Nothing can compare to it.
My demon is the flesh.
From the flesh, your angel will be born.
I'm leaving, vastness.
I'm talking to you.
Is it your fear or your eyes?
Those who look see so close to me.
Think a little.
Die a little.
Saying goodbye isn't everything in the end.
I'm going far from here. I'm talking to you.