Tomorrow Triumphant

JEALOUSIES, PERHAPS
I’m tortured
by the blind anonymous
kisses
sometimes find
in your saliva,
pleading for your lips.

You know,
nothing matters to me more
than what you are now,
what your eyes say
when they’re occupied
by my fatigue, my pains;
when my head falls
victim to your hands.

You arrived first.
Afterwards, my breast
came
to rest on your beaches
without asking anyone
where your mouth
had lived before.

Now I can kiss you
my love
and break down crying
afterwards
over the extinguished
stars
remaining
in your soul.

Jealousies, perhaps
of your first lips.

But in the cold
of the world
you covered my soul,
perhaps,
who knows!
with the heat
learned
from other mouths.

  • trans. Alejandro Murguìa