I stroll along serenely, with my eyes, my shoes, my rage, forgetting everything.

I have slept with you all night long while the dark earth spins with the living and the dead, and on waking suddenly in the midst of the shadow my arm encircled your waist. Neither night nor sleep could separate us.

Joyful, joyful, joyful, as only dogs know how to be happy with only the autonomy of their shameless spirit.

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

Why do trees conceal the splendor of their roots?

No, my dog used to gaze at me, paying me the attention I need, the attention required to make a vain person like me understand that, being a dog, he was wasting time, but, with those eyes so much purer than mine, he’d keep on gazing at me with a look that reserved for me alone all his sweet and shaggy life, always near me, never troubling me, and asking nothing.

As if you were on fire from within. The moon lives in the lining of your skin.