Losing hope

I lie about my scar.
Had I gotten it for being brave
rather than stupid,

had I repeated courage
a thousand times
instead of weakness.

We pretend to
read each other well.
He looks at me

once every six months.
I live a little. Die a little.
Lose words.

I replace pain with silence.
Respond separation
with unconditional love.

But my heart is so tired.

(I am so tired.)

Lull

you tell me how locomotives are powered
minutes before we hear the 2 a.m. train,
I have feared it for so long but not just now.

one cold orange night,
instead of sleep we choose to
go over old movies and viet congs.

you learn to look me in the eyes
and provide me with refuge in your embrace.
all things come to those who wait.

A heart from scratch

A language
made of
lost words.

You. I. Quiet.
While you were away,
I walked my little world

from pole to pole by myself,
hid my heart
where no one else

could find it,
my only weakness,
you.

(from my Poesia Torta)

We are the great danger

A cycle is to an end
- the water says.
Let it be old grief,
I am so tired
I cannot cry,
small sadnesses
clump up inside me.

I've lost a shoe
walking the
flooded streets.
I was and am afraid.
My bones did and do ache.
None of these
stopped me.

We are the great danger. Psyche is the great danger. How important is to know something about it, but we know nothing about it. (Carl Jung)

The house of sure things

I built it around myself.
High walls,
heaped imperfections,
bruised knees

and clay.
They tell me you can
count on nobody
these days.

There can't be
such thing as
trust in the invisible,
they say.

I care very little about many things.
I have to.

I inhabit a dream
with my own name.