Suddenly this defeat. This rain. The blues gone grayAnd the browns gone grayAnd yellowA terrible amber. In the cold streetsYour warm body. In whatever roomYour warm body. Among all the peopleYour absenceThe people who are alwaysNot you.I have been easy with treesToo long. Too familiar with mountains. Joy has been a habit. NowSuddenlyThis rain.
DuendeI can't remember her name. It's not as though I've been in bedwith that many women. The truth is I can't even rememberher face. I kind of know how strongher thighs were, and her beauty. But what I won't forgetis the way she tore openthe barbecued chicken with her hands, and wiped the grease on her breasts.