We are faster than the ground we step on
more quick-spirited than the love relationships we have
we get to the destination before us
we end in the ground before the ground
in the woman before love
in the child before the mother.

Welcome in the loader!, the soldier invites me.
you are the bullet’s nice dream,
that of getting inside the woman’s heart
as lightly as if on tiptoe
without death to see it.

The woman must be set free,
but you don’t learn this in the army,
she first sprang out of my eyes
and hardly after she passed my look unwounded
passing through you very far away.

It is from here that she finds her conviction
from the wounds of its terrible nature
which she wouldn’t have got while running
no one thinks I have a strong look.

Stop the fire!
A flower cannot fit into another flower any longer.