Like Water for Chocolate


I bought you this yarn.

You’ve recovered
from a lover’s breath.
chopped finely.

how lovely you’ll look
you can let your tears flow,
Mine never come out like her’s.

Weeping was the first symptom
full of white flowers…
she’d swallowed them…

I noticed you like to knit.
fatherless and without milk
in the filthy river of sin.

The candle can be anything:
A sense of melancholy
steamed milk…
a stray bullet…
a caress…

this sexual encounter was
a melody, a word…
The devil’s dog.

The heat that invaded her
flare of a match…
I lost my virginity.
Hurry back.

The rose smell…
of such radiance…
impossible to sleep.
She’s completely deaf.

gaze on her bare shoulders…
until she finished the quilt
knitted and cried
inside her mother’s womb
and the water had evaporated,

make us see a radiant tunnel…
untouched by love’s fire…
with a box of matches inside.
But no crying.
she left me when she died.

we need oxygen
thyme, laurel,
blood in this house…
the smell of her kitchen…
And not a single tear.



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