"¿Quién me ha robado el mes de Abril?
Lo guardaba en el cajón
donde guardo el corazón."
Joaquin Sabina
Draped in dew, befogged yet shrill,
night regards two strangers stride,
arms entwined, with cadenced glide,
dampened steps in mist hushed still.
Inside hearts, caged fireflies steer
sinews strong revealed finespun.
Lips unfastened, masks undone,
petals rustle in the clear.
Nightingales their tongues do twist,
mock the creole of the kiss,
while their twilit pupils miss
Lily melt into the mist.
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