Luis

I water my plants when I hear you on the phone
They have learnt to love your presence
The shapes of the trees through the buildings
I would jump into the deep of their vanishing point
Give a shape to words, they will mean something better
Maybe they don’t understand them but I do
All that skin is for me after midnight not before
All your soft hair, there for me to stroke
Your painted hands they are there for being held
And oh, your hips, an apple of sins
Give a shape to words, they will mean something better
Maybe they don’t understand them but I do
But I do