I'm a Runaway when I was born they shut me up inside myself. Ah, but I run away...

If you would touch my heart,
if only you would put your lips to my heart,
your delicate mouth, your teeth,
if you would place your tongue like a red 
arrow where my crumbling heart is beating,
if you would blow over my heart,
near the sea,
crying,
it would ring with an obscure sound,
the sound of train wheels,
of dreams,
like the to and fro of waters,
like autumn in leaf,
like blood,
with a noise of damp flames burning the sky,
dreaming like dreams,
or branches,
or winds,
or the horns of some sad port,
if you would blow on my heart near the sea,
in Cascais,
like a white ghost would blow,
on the lace of the spume,
in the cut of the wind,
like an unchained ghost crying at the sea's edge.

Times are when what your tears may wish to be...