Ten times nightly it crawls beneath, Five times sprightly it ruptures my peace. Pale is its breath When I open my legs Waiting for it to go back inside. Sometimes, when it sleeps, I begin to feel Something close to love. And slowly it moves, its endless wrath, Extinguishing all warmth, Coming back to its fat prey.
It opens its gall black shining eyes.
How dreadful, The cold silence of waiting For uncondensed hatred.