Motel Josephine
Amaya López-Carromero
Hate me like the whore who burnt your door
Draw me like the tick that sucked your blood
Scar me like the barren land you’d never plow
But my eyes once reflected your screams
Feed your dammed rivers
Tidal waves, and aero planes, the weather changed
On the way back home there’s flesh
Left on the floor, blood, fingers cut
The wind, the snow, tears that roll
You shouldn’t have scarred my name on your arm
I should have had no mercy, right from the start
The wound that never heals
The truth you never see, the need you have to hate
(Your) Words like shards, your vengeance hard
Cold as green glass eyes that start to wave as we part