My body is…

My body is lying on the floor

Donde no pesan las palabras

I hate my lips

I hate my fingers

I hate the rubbish of my hair

travelling across the room, without

the closed blinds.

I hate the prisoner wind

unable to move my words,

más allá de mi boca.

I hate you smile,

I hate your arms,

holding me in my mind

only in my mind

only in the past

only in the dark, while,

we could be smoke, and,


for each other.

I’m impressed in salt,

waiting to the plaints grow up,

luchando con las olas,

nadando sola

floating in good desires

golpeándome en la piel

agarrándome a una roca

hurting me in the eyes.

Gritando tu nombre,

más allá de mi boca.