Eduardo C. Corral - Our Completion: Oil On Wood: Tino Rodtriguez: 1999 lyrics

Our Completion: Oil On Wood: Tino Rodriguez: 1999 Before nourishment there must be obedience. In his hands I was a cup overflowing with thirst. Eighth ruler of my days, ninth lord of my nights: he thrashed above me, like branches. Once, after weeks of rain, he sliced a potato in half to remind me of the moon. The dark slept in the small of his back. The back of his knees: pale music. We'd crumble the Eucharist & feed it to the pigeons. Sin vergüenza. Escuintle. He Who Makes Things Sprout. In the margins in a book of poems by Emily Dickinson he scribbled: she had a pocketful of horses/ Trojan/ & some of them used. Often I mistook him for a storyteller when he stood in the rain. A su izquierda,huesos. A su derecho, mapas de cuero. When I'd yawn, he'd pluck black petals out of my mouth.