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.