Like a forgetful merchant who rummages through a chest
in nauseating search for a golden coin he knows is there,
going through silk bands, dried flowers, yellowed letters,
constantly finding everything except what he needs,
like a starving hunter who roams through the dark wood,
hoping to see a hare or any bird, but getting more and more
entangled in wild mulberries and hawthorn bushes,
until his gun is lost and he can't find his way home,
I go through your meandering conversations,
your kisses, caresses, touches, smiles and tears,
your dresses and nudities, your moods and noises,
examining, rejecting this animal casing that conceals
something mine, something that may not be there,
that only exists because I am looking for it.