Flaca
Flaca,
I do not key your daggers,
in the back. So deep,
do not hurt, do not make me wrong.
far
in the center of the earth, roots,
of love, where they were staying.
Between let me not forget me
our Aprils forgotten
at the bottom of the closet,
in the guest room
were golden days, a better past.
And although nearly deceived
and I say slowly
do not lie,
do not tell me the truth
do not stay silent,
not raise your voice, nor did I ask forgiveness
And although I confess almost
that too and was a companion dog
an ideal dog who learned to bark
and to return home, to eat.
Flaca,
I do not key your daggers,
from behind so deep
do not hurt, I do wrong
far
in the center of the earth, the roots
of love, where they were, remain