The she-wolf

In the end, there are no simple answers to the solitary howl of a she-wolf.
I sould have been born in a wolfpack where orphans don’t exist.
How could I decipher the signs in the multiple clothing of solitude,
the fatal haughtiness of the one who ate from your hand and left love behind
without farewell like some stinking shack.
How make an inventory of the uncountable names of love which will die so far away.
I should have closed doors and mind,
the runaway, unbridled skin, the mistreated heart,
and believe that I’d never heard its howl…auuuuu

Translated by Etnairis Rivera.