S / TEMuntañola. tapabas mouth when you talk
like you're smoking,
as if you hide your teeth,
as a predator spotless
repentant
and the limit of your hand
allowed to see the limit of your mouth
coming of death.
Exile crossed your soul up and down,
billed you skin
hope, forgetting
locked himself in the place you sleep
where grows the sand and the bitter sea.
I looked inward
to see the folds,
-what-you said no,
with the meekness of one who loves you well
and fears nothing you, or imposed.
And the night fell in the street
wanted to take you upstairs,
vines down
sunflowers without
place beyond my sight.
An appropriate word, a gesture,
moisture from the rain, quick goodbye,
the essence
that
again did not get to your soul.
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