Mere Happiness Is Not the Song I'm Singing

Mere happiness is not the song I'm singing:
Of mothers' joy a jagged piece is pain.
To love is to be amply burdened, bringing
Hearts with gifts to an uncharted plain.
Even so, one longs to be a mother,
Remembering a richness unreserved
'Ere one could barely recognize another,
Sustained by love unsought and undeserved.
Deeper than oneself is one's communion,
A revelation reached alone by union
Yet yearned for, though through years of love well served.
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I Miss You, but I Cannot Make You Miss Me

I miss you, but I cannot make you miss me.
I need you, but you do not know my need.
I want you, but I cannot make you kiss me.
I suffer, but I cannot make you bleed.
I beseech you, but you will not be beguiled.
The door's locked, and you will not let me in.
You're my mother*, but I cannot be your child.
I've lost you, and I can't take back my sin.
Like an earth no longer with its sun,
Shooting towards eternity alone,
I no longer circle anyone,
An aimless, mindless, wandering piece of stone.
Ah, Mother*! It would be so sad if we
Would journey through to darkness separately. *"father" if to a father
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Sorrow and joy of love

Sorrow and joy of love
Watch how makes me
the skin when you recuerdo…

By the throat I upload
a fresh blood River
the wound that crosses
of part to part of my body.
I have nails in the hands
and knives in the fingers
and in my Temple a Crown
made of black pins.

Watch how makes me
skin everytime I remember
I'm a married man
and however you want.

From your House to my house
There is a wall of silence,
nettles and prickly pear,
of lime, sand, wind,
of dark Honeysuckle
and glass in stalking.
A wall so that never
can skip it the people,
It is stealing the key
that save our secret.
And I know that I want to!
And thou knowest that I love!
As we know the two
and nobody can tell.

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