We're safe from the cutting edge of the night,
from bars where songs tear up smoke,
from the whores who are cold, from the alcohol in the streets,
from invisible sex, from their wombs speaking.
From hunger, we were saved, from other continents,
from the truths that women shout while asleep.

We're safe from planes, skyscrappers,
from old kids crossing our strait,
from knowing ourselves lost, the light of memory,
from pollen, from their laugh, from me knowing you.
From deciding the end, and dying under downpours,
tired of feeling hurt, from dawn and its promises.

Guardian angels put us to safety,
shut the windows to keep you from jumping.
Wise men saved us from our own decisions,
from the rebel bite that is this embrace.

We're safe from the sea and its purity,
from books with questions without answers,
from being without coverage, from talking to the neighbor
who sleeps at the stairs, from chance and its children.
You're safe from the air in which my barking trembles.

We're safe from you. My love, I'm lost.