the fluidity of the words passes through my clinched lips:
the perfection in taking part in something I had no hand in creating
una lengua perfecta en que nadie te ayuda. en que estás solo
a perfect language spoken in the perfect pitch.
let the words leave your mouth, pretty boy. indulge me in my quest for perfection
eres la persona más perfecta de mi vida
expanding from the simple two-word phrase to the sentences that swooned me to sleep those dark
ojalá que duermes bien mi amor. hasta mañana.
along comes morning and the perfection I've always been searching for and always thought I'd found in you
disappears with the passing of the seconds/minutes/hours from the minute I last set eyes on you
amor mio¿dónde fuiste?
finding perfection, PrettyBoy isn't as easy as the picture books make it seem
solo puedo encontrar perfección en la lengua española.