Words and Music by                                           

You handed me your lyrics
            In any alley, nervously

            I could see your small fist
            White from clenching – it took 
            A while to get its colour again
            And for me to unrumple the sheet

            What a pity your eyes 
            Got in the way of my music,
            Because now 

            How long has it been 
            Since the lilacs and tatters
            And cutting to the bone to save our skins,
            My tender summer wraith?

            It's what I never wrote 
            That I remember best


             Emanuel E. García, Sojourns2014