XIV

Three by three, love,
four by four,
with their song of nocturnal birds in flight,
cars have been passing by the house.

And I, who lives sometimes
outside of your dream,
almost an unprepared sonambulist among them,
I have not wanted to avoid the beating of their wings
of light over the sheets,
who arrived in a hurry,
they loved your waist,
searching an exit through your spine.