XIV

Springtime movies are advertised in the streets
with arduous commotion
and with photographs.
                            Agitated
—as if it were young and had arrived running—
the light reddens over the walls
of the city,
and the trees hold a metallic gleam,
the impression of a body
that desires nakedly.
A rumor of hope
arrives, grows
to fill even the inhabitable loneliness
of the empty sheets.
There are advertisements, glass, warehouses
and escalators in a bit of a hurry.
Cars pass,
stars, vans,
and astonished teenage girls
who shine
vaguely differently.

Streetlights
ignite like I do
and like me they burn out.
Love wanders these streets.

But behind, behind all that May
you were there,
round, white, full,
as if the moon had bitten your breasts.