Vestido de Hombre Rana

Dressed in a frogman suit, on a Sunday I will come to pick you up
like all boyfriends go to pick up their girlfriends,
and once a week I will cry for your absence,
flooding my diving suit with tears of truth.
We will dance holding each other to the music of a compressor group,
and with compressed air we will toast to the joy of love.
Dressed in a frogman suit, I will recite my poems to you,
taking tears of seawater from your eyes,
and once a week I will go to church,
to pray for your waist to some real saint.
Turned into pagans, we will go up to a mountain to meditate,
to worship golden calves and burn incense sticks on an altar.
We will eat the roots of the plants that make us dream the most;
to interpret the world, assuming there is something to interpret.
We will dance holding each other with the novelty of a unique step,
and with compressed air we will toast to the joy of love