You Blaspheme

You blaspheme
And you dare
To accepting it.
Me the hands tremble,
I have the secret
Voracious in my mouth.


I want to give it to you,
To leave it with you,
I want to leave you
And to throw myself in the oblivion.


The secret thing seems to be chance,
Absurdity,
As the risk
Of accepting your lies
And to bite my lips.


You shut in yourself
In the negligible enclosure
Of your obscene Sadness of recollections
And you take the chinstrap from me,
You push me,
You defy me.