That Song...
That song
that the gods deceive with
when water passes
over the barometer of your bathtub
is the wonder
of the very first day
when I met you.
Within you, there is
a kind of solar tremor
of noon playing
in your lungs
filled with living water.
I dripped two cups
at the root of your flesh
and you laughed, giggling,
that you won't drown so easily.
And even today, when it's cold,
I'm afraid you'll freeze
and shatter a few giggles
next to your eyelashes
in the hope that
you'll perspire from warmth.