Once I presented you for breakfast
a cuddly bear. I introduced him
to the black coffee and to you.
Because of so much sweetness
the windows rattled and danced.
I hardly dared next to you
on the breathing of the chair.
Where her skirt used to grab you,
your breath and your staring eyes.
Just try, you said, hunger will teach us.
So I pressed my lips on the dry windows.
That’s the way I cleaned the edge
of your house on my side.