The night before taking to the woods
Through the stains on the window pane
you look at the fields of messily replanted cacti.
Your honesty is half madness
and time is a ritual for candles
causing the bones to become thankful again.
The distance is the only certainty –
it draws you near and hypnotizes you.
Each movement is like a dream
dissolving in caffeine.
You always clearly knew
that a woman with a gun is worth more
than ten men with rifles.