neruda 60, butchered

someone always hurts someone:
poisonous blows from me to you,
the venom travels through my limbs
to unmake you with cruel insomnia.

your moonlit face is darkened by the hatred
trailing me: i cannot help you against the shadow,
i cannot stop your dreams violently embedded
with a rusty crown of knives chasing you.

i step past you to find a horror in the river: a face
staining the calm water with ripples of an orgy
of jealousy, laughs of a sadistic slut, mine.

but it is that shadow that life has granted me.
i drag my limp and my sagging dress, for
they suit me well: I, the scarecrow who smiles in blood.