Zywa
María, 18 years old
The gravedigger knew your feelings
for me, your free hero from Havana
He called me and gave the address
of the morgue where you were
I kissed you, your forehead
glowing ice-cold upon my lips
I kissed the hand on your stomach
and also your white shoes, no
I couldn't say goodbye
Oh María, you walked into the river
where you died of love
because you saw me
back in your city, married
to Carmen from Mexico, the woman
you wanted to be so badly
We bury you in silk
surround you with jasmine
and cover you with lilies
|