He said no. And time ran out.
time
Then life paused
and everything seemed to break
like those children's riddles
in which only one word is missing,
a necessary and rare word.
But he said no. He closed his lips
and listened to the gurgling of syllables
struggling to live outdoors.
He said no. And time heard the silence.
Then life paused.
And everything was different: the pain was
more cautious, more sensible,
lust wept in its burrow.
And time inaugurated its masks.
Then, only then,
heard his heart barking
and did not know what to do with so much excess:
He closed his lips and listened to the silence.
Edited excerpts of the poetess
Francisca Aguirre