Let's make a deal, poem. I won't force you to say what you don't want to and you won't be so resistant to my wishes. We have wrestled so much. Why this insistence on making you in my own image when you know things I don't suspect? Free yourself from me now. Flee without a backward glance. Save yourself before it's too late. Because you always outdo me, you know how to say what drives you and I do not, because you are more than yourself and I am only someone who tries to recognize himself in you. I have limits to my desire and you have none, you just go where you wish without seeing the hand you move and which you think is yours when you feel yourself emerge from it like something that springs forth. Force your course on the writer, he only knows how to hide you, to bury the novelty, to impoverish you. What it shows is tired repetition. Poem, leave me.

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Making Peace by Rafael Cadenas
(English translation)