What can I offer you?
You share your song with whoever shows up,
eight births and a caesarean,
9 chunks of you chucked at whoever checks like,
I wait all week and then some more,
– fumbling, floundering through the days, distracted –
to have just three of your nine lives just for me.
De que cantas? Me da igual. Entiendo el sentimiento y lo tengo para mi.
I want to teach you, but I don’t have the words.
I want to dance with you, but I don’t have the courage.
I take, take, take your music and your energy.
You give me your all, you bare your soul.
Is my quiet company enough for you?
It must be. It must be.