viernes, noviembre 02, 2018

SFO

There are places that hurt
when you rip them from your body
Will you always know?
That I come from a land
where summer never ends
where the torsos of the boys
have coffers full of water
and love is an ocean full of the dead
I have grown far from the eternal summer
with roots bare to the air.

Now I wrap my body with a language
that doesn’t  cover me completely
and that leaves my feet tired and blue.
But I have learned to smile with a cage on my tongue
like the language of the birds that repeat sounds
and in my ears an alphabetic labyrinth.
Pay attention:
You'll see right in my chest
the adolescent black wool
a hidden wound with the shape of a map
That I visit and I share sometimes
where I keep the intense memory
of everything that I was.