by Sandorfi
I drag my adorable flip flops and half a dozen certainties
along the corridor as my self-esteem expands
and contracts the evening.
-It is our last class council this year
but I feel as if I am already enjoying my vacations:

I sit languorously and open my green folder,
speaking little but when I put on my glasses
I become myself.
(it is hard to be myself especially in the end of the year,
It is almost counterproductive.)

On the other side, there is someone
who was my good and my bad.
I must admit there is no definition to do justice to him.
Maybe this momentary problem is caused due to
a sudden shortage of words, inspiration or labels.
The fact is:
ladies and gentlemen, he doesn't fit in my now anymore.)

We stare each other before everything collapses:
bricks fall, foundations crumble.
Derrida deconstructs you with gratitude.
It is late but I take a peek at my shattered heart:
what a ridiculous cliche!
(Do you like it? I love it!)

Anyways, love is ex and ex is just a prefix that didn't work out.
I am on the corner of the past but I like the tall tanned future
and its coward gentleness sitting next to me.

And when everything ends, including the battle
of flunking
or promoting students
I stand up calmly, almost gliding across the room
leaving all the heavy weights behind,
particularly the prefixes and suffixes of ingratitude
and it is with unspeakable pleasure
that I go away feeling I am

Karla Bardanza
Copyright©Karla Bardanza 2012 Photobucket

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