Comb Gently My Hair, Please

folks something’s happening here
a woman yells that she’s murdered/ it’s me that woman
and the same woman looks inside the old well
there’s rust
upon the chains lifting the bucket

everyone is silent if the woman screams
they’re accomplices and well-intentioned folks
everyone screams and trots happily if the woman does not speak
wise like a yarn ball that stopped rolling over stairs

it happens that it is cold inside this naked flesh
stripped of skin/ comprenne qui voudra
every time something happens the world ruffles its hair
sharpens its teeth
and no one admits the truth
it is a taboo for civilized people
because every death has thousands of births in its back
can you imagine how it looks
our earth suffocated by its own umbilical cord
as if you see from the moon above the face of a baby
sliced with their hoes

keep on hoeing folks
many of them run into their mother’s dark and warm womb
I don’t exist anymore
all that’s left is the limewater thrown upon my body
and that place from where the Maya priest uprooted my heart

tomorrow everything will be so beautiful that another child will cry
and they will change his teardrop of grace
into death
it’s forbidden to love

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Categories: My Poems in 2015, Uncategorized | Tags: | Leave a comment

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