the sand in your hair has fallen
on the bed after we spent our last days between
boulders lakes sand dunes & you were
a lizard in its element & I was a turtle
returning to the same beach it hatched in
ravens clouds stars above our tent
pitched in the softest ground the warmest skin I’ve ever touched
is yours & what does the sand say to you now
in the morning when I’m waking & you’re waking & we’re no longer
kiss to the forehead leg on your leg
hair on our lips when we look for half a bottle of wine
you must be weighing all scenarios how long
we’ve known each other vs. the countries we’re apart when I look at Libra
here in the southern sky your Kindle is the only thing missing
next to my hardcover fear is mágia or espárk
take a moment to WhatsApp me
what’s under you what do you smell stay with my voice
through the warm telephone in your hands let it crawl
past your curls let me dangle long as —
I grow relentless like the grass in Abuela’s backyard
with the purpose to greengreen greengreen