Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Tiempo Tuyo

Time
Will never be filed
Like documents and facts
Or collected
Like hands and fingers that fold on laps.

It will always be you and I
And the rush of air
Passed from lip to lip

The tracing of your tongue on my earlobes
Salt of your sex on my lips

The minutes and centuries released
Like collected sighs
That you and I stored
Knowing sunrise and sunsets
Mean nothing

Time is hidden
In these veins
That quiver and pulse
Beneath your touch

A million years of you and more.

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