Santa Cecilia.

Those tiny little breakable legs,
those tiny little breakable arms,
those tiny little breakable feet,
those tiny little breakable hands.

That huge big shatterproof step,
that huge big shatterproof embrace,
that huge big shatterproof walk,
that huge big shatterproof hug.

Behind the ribs she hides her love,
there burns a desire of being loved.
Between the lips she keeps her words,
significant pieces of tender fondness.

And I read to her about distant forms,
and I sing to her a mournful lullaby,
and we both chat together about
sorrow and joy, woe and bliss; silence.

She sounds and she speaks and she talks,
she shouts and she screams as she walks,
she falls on my arms and I clean all her dust,
she sings to me and time seems to be lighter.

I wish it rained upon our huge little heads,
and we could wash away each other’s pain,
and stay together and be a pair of old friends,
I’ll love her truly to the end of my days.

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