And in the End

And in the End
"the love you make is equal to the love you take"


Hostile days due to sterile vigils
—vampire eyes born from a bohemian life.
A bitter taste in your mouth, and fog in your brain
pass over, still no embrace.

Fucked days. Wide streets dazed under the sun.
Useless dirt between the tires of cars and buses,
and a man perfumed, arrogant.
In the end—and in the end— a mangy dog: poetry.