Wednesday, April 06, 2016

- NaPoWriMo #14

Weeping at the many funerals of my birth


1.
I’ve left my body next to the dawn
and I've sung the sadness of what is born.

2.
now then:
who will stop digging their hands
in search of the child’s tribute? the cold
will pay. the wind will pay. the rain
will pay. thunder will pay…

3.
for a short-lived minute of life
for a minute of viewing the brain
for little flowers dancing like words
in the mouth of a mute man

4.
he’s afraid to undress in the paradise
of his memory
he’s ignorant of the fierce destiny
of his visions

5.
illumined memory, where the shadow
of what I wait for roams. it’s a lie
he will not return. it’s a lie he will return.

6.
there’s a weak wind
full of bent faces,
cut-outs of things I want to love

7.
now
            at this innocent hour
me and the one I was sit
on the doorstep of my gaze

8.
afraid of being two
on my way to the mirror:
someone inside me
eats and drinks me

9.
you’ve built a house
you’ve added feathers to your birds
you’ve assaulted the wind
with your bones
you’ve finished (all by yourself)
what nobody started

10.
I’ve been born so many times
and doubly suffered
in the memory of here and there

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