One day
winter arrives
morning is unaccompanied.
Night is day in another world.
The same way the mother of pearls close,
the victories to come
are torn on the palms of our hands.
We didn’t choose them by chance
but by chance they were the ones we chose.
Burst, grenade,
the conscience tells the suicide bomber.
But remember those others, give them a cause: why does suicide strike
the ones without a cause?
Lost honour floats afar
no one reaches the shore with a valid wreck
to marry is out of the equation
here it is, the night without discount
or overdraft:
Before going, if in luck, to the moon
and thus showing
one goes to die in the sun,
as it will be.
Night is day in another world.