La Noche
Octavia
The Night
The Moon allows me to perceive
Contours of salt
The night begins to distill
Its natural spirit
Murmur of a warm night
Bodies in turmoil
Clandestine voices roar
Fire
The night burns on my skin
The night burns
The night burns
The night burns on my skin
The night burns
The night burns
The night burns on my skin
The night burns
The night burns
The night burns on my skin
Its sap begins to circulate
Its sap is lethal
Then you will need
To taste it again
Murmur of a warm night
Bodies in turmoil
Clandestine voices roar
Fever
The night burns on my skin
The night burns
The night burns
The night burns on my skin
The night burns
The night burns
The night burns on my skin
The night burns
The night burns
The night burns on my skin
