Wednesday, August 20, 2014


Who knows what love is?
Has anyone seen it lately?
A strange insect of twenty one legs and fourteen  mouths 
cecum to the gut
dead drunk
in constant rehab 
If you were fruit
you would have the skin of a peach 
and the flesh of a  pomegranate
but the taste of a mango
if you were an animal you would have a tiger’s head
and a tiger’s body
right down to a tiger’s tail
but don’t be confused 
you are not a tiger
Love’s derailed tongue 
licking the wounds
made with its own claws 
today you have stayed asleep
or perhaps hidden tired of battling
You are not under the bed 
nor behind the pictures or in the dirty laundry
I have also searched inside the recycling bag 
and in the refrigerator without any luck

Out there somewhere
you will be sleeping off your hangover
it is not a suspicion or a hope
is that your smell is not gone 
do not fool me
I smell your insides oxidizing
and the freshness of your lips
I know you are still here
lurking and smiling
waiting for me to drop my guard
to go right for the jugular. 

© Adrián Arias
Trans: Nina Serrano
original poem in Spanish here
Digital image by Adrián