Copa rota

No hay lágrimas en la copa rota,
hay sangre y cristal.
Sangre y cristal.
Un mar rojo navegado
por un millón de veleros.
Un atardecer crepitante
plagado de astillas de hielo.

might

It might be a world
behind the world,
behind the words.
A place where giants fall,
midgets take control
and run around the trees
gusting winds to rip their leaves off.

It might be a sensation
behind your senses,
behind your fences.
A dart of ice right
into your heart,
bleeding you like a
frozen waterfall.

It migh be a woman
behind the woman.
It might be her eyes
behind her eyes,
her touch harassing scarves
all along my skin.
It might be...
It might be just me.