Another day
of manoeuvring

in the holy triangle
of languor, passion and harmony

In my blood, lethargy is floating
lazily along banks and jetties

It lies down
in the signal boxes

of my muscles and mood
as the prey of the fighters

who ignore the night
to make a party

of my life, now or never
a plaything

of higher powers that wait
what it is worth to me

to participate, out of desire
for happiness (not lasting long)