Contigo

I don't want a civilized love, with receipts and sofa scenes;
I don't want you to travel to the past and come back from the market wanting to cry.
I don't want neighbors with pouts; I don't want to sow or share;
I don't want Valentine's Day or happy birthdays.
I don't want to carry your suitcases; I don't want you to choose my shampoo;
I don't want to move to another planet, cut my ponytail, toast to your health.
I don't want Sunday afternoons; I don't want a swing in the garden;
What I want, cowardly heart, is for you to die for me.
And die with you if you kill yourself, and kill myself with you if you die;
because love when it doesn't die, kills
because loves that kill, never die.
I don't want to save for tomorrow, don't ask me to make it to the end of the month;
I don't want to eat an apple twice a week, without wanting to eat.
I don't want greenhouse heat; I don't want to kiss your scar;
I don't want Paris in the rain or Venice without you.
Don't wait for me at twelve in court; don't tell me 'Let's start over';
I don't want to be free or busy, neither flesh nor sin, nor pride nor pity.
I don't want to know why you did it; I don't want with you or without you;
What I want, girl with sad eyes, is for you to die for me.
And die with you if you kill yourself, and kill myself with you if you die;
because love when it doesn't die, kills
because loves that kill, never die.