domingo, 5 de abril de 2015

(to Keaton)

Jacaranda forests

They do exist jacaranda forests. Hectares and hectares of lilac flowers. Don’t deny it, dad. Scientists announce a possible invasion, each year they discover the birth of a new jacaranda forest.
They expand. Around all the world. Natural phenomenons, dad, I just want to fill my life with little lilac flowers. Do you imagine a forest like that in the Arctic? Geologists will be hallucinated. I'll go live there, in a little house made of light blue porcelain, next to some radiobeacon. I will be so happy, dad. Don’t be afraid, among all the possible catastrophes, a jacaranda invasion cannot be that bad; anyway, when we get suffocated by the flowers on the lung we will be no longer aware.


(to Keaton)


◕ a girl on fire 
hugging her knees 
in the center of the kitchen 

I wake up at four in the morning
 because of a nightmare 
in which my sister 
sitting on an old white porcelain tub
 in a bath of high walls
 cuts her stomach with an old rusty scissors

◕ a girl on fire 
the pain of the tears cutting my cheeks 
pulls me out of the dream 
I sit on the bed and watch my house: 
this silence is life bringing me back 

I hear noises downstairs 
I slip on tiptoe 
and get through the stairs:
in the center of the kitchen there is a girl on fire 
         tha  t is    ali  ve

◕ a girl on fire 
the orange light lights up the walls
the same light that protects her from the fire
her skin is as smooth and healthy as mine
but she doesn't look at me
she doesn't look at anybody
she doesn't look at anything

◕ a girl on fire 
suddenly I’m four years old again
the picture of a happy family playing on the backyard,
mom and dad drinking mate,
us painting in the concrete walls
Córdoba burns us with heat

◕ a girl on fire 
hugging her knees
in the center of the kitchen
I hug my knees and think about a metallic planet,
I’m on fire in the kitchen floor:
it is my own strength
that comes to remind me that it never left