and a sky-blue cast of the heart,
and drawing hollow air into my
guts, i rejoice in your blessed
clavicle, i marvel at your tender ribs
and i want to gather up
your splendid limbs to
my rooted chest,
tu eres luciente—
tu luces, tu ardes
und ich schaue zu,
feuerachtlos
scrubbing, absently,
at my tarnish
