If your nudity is
Nothing more than a series of drawings.
If your music
Only accompanied the dance with yourself.
If your clothes
Become your colorful face.
If your spectacle
Is your make-up and disguise.
If your rooms and furniture
Borrowed from a bygone world.
If the fictional characters you tell
Inhabit your life as ghosts.
If your land of love
Is that of power games.
When you’re fighting the tearful battle
Even in your dreams.
If your travels
Have far away from you their indefinite goal.
If you are trying to transcend yourself –
With oblivion for a soul overflowing and wide:
In a world of glaciated words –
In the face of chocolate loneliness.
Then you see in the black mirror
Your enemy.