Up and down the subdivisions, this body feels warm:
And these eyes have seen helicopters,
And felt their midsummer swarm- they go underneath the erudite
Moon like a tropical depression of primary colors:
My dogs are in Arizona, but they can smell my blood,
As I can smell the footsteps up the mountains in
Colorado, as I can smell Alma across town in her bedroom
Breathing beside Heidi and the only man
She fears that she loves:
But now what is she doing since her rabbits have disappeared,
After they ate the one and only mango tree in her backyard;
And her little brown body tells so many fairytales,
Each of them truer to my ears than the next,
And I haven’t yet sat next to her absolute truth in a movie theatre,
As I still don’t know anything about the schemes of stanzas:
And I have never bathed with Alma, or been on a plane with her;
Which goes to show that there are still so many things
Left to do in this life,
And when I stare into the brown opulence of Alma’s famished
Eyes, I bite my teeth and swear that there are still so many reasons
In which to believe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem