Inside my blood, Pluto freezes
with such a violence before
November as if I could be what
the constellations whispered.
But I laid my doubts in this world
as soon as she cut my umbilical cord
with her teeth, thinking peace
could echo through both of us.
I - an unavoidable wreckage
after another attempt.
(I could never be your salvation;
who promised you my scalp?)
And as we grow old and wild
into the woods, we stare each other,
searching for that lost magnificence
we have never had
like two victims of the stars,
every word touches us
as we expire outwards our love
and hate on each other's faces.
Karla Bardanza
with such a violence before
November as if I could be what
the constellations whispered.
But I laid my doubts in this world
as soon as she cut my umbilical cord
with her teeth, thinking peace
could echo through both of us.
I - an unavoidable wreckage
after another attempt.
(I could never be your salvation;
who promised you my scalp?)
And as we grow old and wild
into the woods, we stare each other,
searching for that lost magnificence
we have never had
like two victims of the stars,
every word touches us
as we expire outwards our love
and hate on each other's faces.
Karla Bardanza
Copyright©Karla Bardanza 2012
What a beautiful paradox, with great depth and meaning.
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