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.
(But)
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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