let your hair fall on my pillow,
press yourself next to my body
the stretched copper of your skin....
Let me tell you about David and Goliath,
about the books I wrote,
about the papers I threw out,
about ever word: poetry and prose,
to know me, always talking
in the house of the other...
I know that your word was silence,
the syllable oppressed
the vocabulary humiliated.
America: lover of mine
and I don't want you to sleep...
I want to tell you a myth,
let me, dear, talk to you about
David and Goliath.