Dói o peito

at last
i can feel again.

and it hurts to see
the words crawling
after meaning: like reptiles
because everything i have
is what i pretend to say.

i have walked beneath fire.
(my bitter skin,
my map of reality,
my sad route)

time challenges us
and the sun confuses me more
but i remain rude,
and losing track of
my ignored depths.

you know, i have tried to bleed poetry
in front of invisible people.
( i swear i have)
but a friend died,
a neighbour died
a colleague died,
a country died.

someone might have
thanked me for more
one attempt
as something traveled through
my sleepless.surnburnt heart.

i fell upwards.
fearing
my spiteful muse and
our unseen guilty

i'm below
the equator line:
i have permission
to tembrace pain with care
( we are used to it)
reframing myself
in front of respectful people.
but where até they now?

Karla bardanza