My breasts howl under the blouse:
from the inward,
a pearly sap keeps gushing forth.
(Around my waist,
remote tam-tams call back again.)
Nightward, a flock of raptors
flying clockwise shatters my room-door.
Along my nerves,
tensed lianes brightly interweave.
(Scratching my thighs,
great felins’ claws climbing backwards.)
I know it’s you (that’s why I’m puzzled…)
you’re only a tiny beating muscle
and still all-powerful.
Translation: Sílvia Aymerich