If your nudity is
Nothing more than a series of drawings
If your music
Only accompanied the dance with yourself
If your clothes
Seems to be your colorful face
If your spectacle
Appears as 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