I'm more prepared for burial shrouds
than the tenderness of sunlight at dawn;
I'm more prepared for cutthroats on jagged avenues
than the embrace of a lover familiar
with the lost dreams hidden behind my eyes.
I don't urgently demand promises,
I don't expect faithfulness or fidelity,
I don't condemn accidents or treason,
nor am I offended by secrets never revealed.
I've reached a place where if a woman touches my face,
I take it as a momentary pleasure
that will most likely not invite repetition,
this is my recognition that love is for youths
without a long history of being exposed to truth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem