"Daughters of the Wind" by Alejandra Pizarnik

They have come.
Invading the blood.
Smelling of feathers,
of needs,
of crying.
But you feed the fear
and the loneliness
as if they were two small animals
lost in the wilderness.

They have come
to burn down the age of the dream.
A farewell is your life.
But you embrace yourself
like the snake mad of motion
only finding itself
because nobody is there.

You weep beneath your tears,
opening the coffer of your desires
and you are richer than the night.

But it feels so lonely
words commit suicide.