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beating in an avalanche that covered my soul.
When I am not this hunchback that you see
sleep beneath the golden hill. Your
you want to conquer the pain
you learn, learn to serve me well. Spiders

my side by accident when you go down for your gold.
The deformed that you dress and feed
not die or hunger or cold;
he has not requested your company
not in the center, center of the world.
When I'm on a pedestal I
your uploaded there.
Your laws do not force me to kneel grotesque
naked.
I myself am the pedestal for this ugly hump
to your look with impudence. Your
you want to conquer the pain
must learn what makes me kind.
The crumbs of love you offer me
are the crumbs of love that I've left behind.
Your pain is no credential here,
is only the shadow, shadow of my wound.
I began to wish, I
I have no ambition;
have begun to ask for you, I
I have no need.
You say that you're away from me but I can feel when
encouraged.
Do not dress in those rags for me.
is that you are not poor.
And love me so hard
ahoracuando know you're not sure.
It's your turn to love, my beloved,
is your flesh that I wear as a dress .
(L. Cohen)