WHILE I OFFER MY SUBMISSION TO THE WIND


The wind beneath the moon draws invisible patterns,
stabbing the back of the night with its bitter breath.
Flowers shiver: petals of ice recoil from my hands.
The stars darken my eyes as my tyrant heart crouches
to wait for the future.
Far off an undiscovered face gazes at my whipped soul.
The blandness of the moment erupts in a blizzard.
I can't see what lies ahead:
flocks of despair fall from my mind, covering my way.

Vague tragedies wrap me in thorns.
I am immobilized.
My blood stains my words, clearing the tops of my grief.
The night can't contain my sorrow.
Who will remember my name?
I was the muse, I was the clown.
Somebody used to read enigmas in my eyes.
Now look at me while I offer my submission to the wind
I have no power.
I am outside life.

Karla Bardanza

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