Mi hombre

I spell new alphabets
and decipher the enigmas of the night
I imagine walking on clouds
and the future is clearer than crystal.

They told me that loving is a war
that a woman never managed to win
it may be partly true
but now I don't care about anything
except being with him.

My man
madness and reason
my man
freedom in prison
my man
slave child, king friend
my man
tenderness and pleasure.

The balconies closed with padlocks
the closets smelling of dried herbs
the buzzing of shadows in the nap
his presence painting the wall.

What do I care about past or future
if the pride of satisfying them gives me a reason
to make the clocks stop
and put everything against the wall
to continue with him.