Almost obscene, by Raúl Gomez Jattin

If you wanted to hear what I say to myself on the pillow
the blush on your face would be the reward
They are words as intimate as my own flesh
that suffers from the pain of your relentless memory
Do I tell you, yes? Won't you take revenge one day? I say to myself:
I would slowly kiss that mouth until turning it red
And in your sex the miracle of a hand going down
in the most unexpected moment and like by chance
touches it with that fervor that inspires what is sacred
I am not evil I am trying to make you fall in love
I am trying to be sincere even being this sick
and enter the curse of your body
like a river that fears the sea,
but always dies in it.