When the one who has not come is gone,
I feel the absurdity of promises.
I start talking with things
I look through people and see them naked...
When the door slams without opening,
I lock my startled soul.
I start listening too much,
As if I'm not a woman, but a beast...
When the guilty one is offended,
I note the weakness of superiority.
I start to see the similarities in different things
And look around in search of obstacles...
When the one who has become ridiculous laughs
I understand the depth of mockery!
I start to peer at pawns:
The last move is done without logic...
When the one who has not come is gone...