I knew instantly
that you are a devil in the horoscope,
because I read from the eyes.
you write for illiterates.
you think that nobody expects an answer.
a fat man
took for a walk
a pair of beautiful eyes:
is she a woman?
is she a child?
she darts, like wild-fire, all the way to your bones.
you cover your body.
eyes denude everything.
to whom your solitude belongs,
you ask while I brutally exterminate
a fat piece of chocolate
moaning,
sighing,
it is always like this when I am happy!
I crave ice all over my body.
there is snow in the Andes,
and I adore winter:
out of its precision
my best girl friends appear.
you do not have to talk about solitude with them.
with them you do not have to do anything.
Translated by Ana Sviličić