Find me in the morning, in sun and heat;

know me in midday by hunger,

in nighttime my moon and yawn.

You can hold a piece of me

in your palm, or feel my presence

in your chest.

I will let you paint my portrait

and hang me out to dry

beside the Pyrenees’ golden cliffs.

I will melt for you on a branch

with the sun sinking behind me

and your own eyes submerged in a dream.

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