She did not speak for speech was unknown to her.

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

And one by one the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us.

I want to do for you what the spring does for the cherry trees

I stroll along serenely, with my eyes, my shoes, my rage, forgetting everything, I walk by, going through office buildings and orthopedic shops, and courtyards with washing hanging from the line: underwear, towels and shirts from which slow dirty tears are falling.

Look around—there's only one thing of danger for you here—poetry.

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