tonight

as seven seven-branched candelabra oxidized
are your forty-nine insolent reproaches;
poisons seven nails black impregnated
admonitions that challenge with seven rows of teeth;


but tonight sunflowers rise
to face the darkness, to take their destiny;
moths bite the lining of your soul
and your damn words already have vanished.


tonight shall flow rivers of honeysuckle
lighting in my eye sockets,
rampage your reservations,
bushels with force your anger
and die in your breasts and your legs.


I'm going to kill tonight seven beasts
with the fine knife of my joy.