I Crave to be the Wind

I crave only to be the wind,
that seems to feed alone,
the sins she claimed to atone,
in her sea within.

I'd be playful and make her skirt my house,
to lift it at least once or twice a day,
carry any word she might ever say
and blow freely under her blouse

Where the waves that rise,
are filled with the most seductive shame,
and the beat that crowns the mane,
is a mixture of her anger and some lies

It's those lies I want to drift against
and brush my chest against their nails,
so that when everything else fails,
I can leave her hair unfenced.

But for my true intent, in the darkest of the night,
I'll blow cold like November's breeze
to take my only chance to seize
from her sea within, the light.

-Manuel Eduardo Dato Torres
21/11/2012