Debil
Yolandita Monge
Weak
He has total access and control of my intimacy
Just by seeing him desire arises in my chest
A simple 'how are you' and my femininity skin moistens
He is the thief of my dreams
There is no doubt he is my inexplicable owner
He is what can make of me
And like wax in front of fire, I feel
Weak, without strength or control
Only with him I am weak
Obsession overcomes me
I am in his arms, weak
I forget modesty
Crazy for him and weak
There is no more explanation
When I am alone my hands sometimes make me fly
His picture is enough and my wings grow
I bite the pillow and my body explodes
In solitude
He is the thief of my dreams
There is no doubt he is my inexplicable owner
He is what can make of me
And like wax in front of fire, I feel
