i do not know if the world has lied
i have lied
i do not know if the world has conspired against love
i have conspired against love
the atmosphere of torture is no comfort
i have tortured
even without the mushroom cloud
still i would have hated
listen
i would have done the same things
even if there were no death
i will not be held like a drunkard
under the cold tap of facts
i refuse the universal alibi

like an empty telephone booth passed at night
and remembered
like mirrors in a movie palace lobby consulted
only on the way out
like a nymphomaniac who binds a thousand
into strange brotherhood
i wait
for each one of you to confess