When you kill me, I don't die.

I live again.

The shadows of the trees don't

fall on my heart.

The horned moon is not far apart.

The sea is just a grain.

When you kill me, your secrets

moisten my soul, blessing my night,

cursing my fate and I feel my songs

don't belong to me as the spirits of

my words cry and await.

I am learning the art of forgiveness,

enfolding you in air, solidifying clouds,

painting echoing dunes, kneeling in

prayer. The water is still potable here.

This source will never dry or disappear.

When you kill me, I know my faults,

your mistakes my soul does abhor.


Right now looking inside my heart

without my sick eyes, I can see

my feelings for you still roar.

O blind light wound me with your words,

stab me with your fickleness, sow me

more scars and I will be blessed like those

who are clean of heart and live among

the stars.

Karla Bardanza

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