Heces

This afternoon it’s raining, like never before; and I
Don’t feel like living, babe.

This afternoon is sweet. Why shouldn’t it be?
You saw grace and sorrow; you wore it like a woman.

This afternoon in Lima it’s raining. And I remember
The cruel caves of my ingratitude;
My block of ice on her poppy,
Stronger than her "don’t be like that!"

My violent black flowers, and barbaric
And huge stone; and the icy stretch.
And she’ll put the silence of her dignity
With burning oils as the final touch.

So this afternoon, like never before, I’m
With this owl, with this heart.

And others pass by; and seeing me so sad;
They take a little bit of you
In the abrupt wrinkle of my deep pain.

This afternoon it’s raining, it’s pouring. And I
Don’t feel like living, babe!