Life is experiencing death
with the eyes wide open.
A candle
would sheds light
only when is diminishing,
would burn
only while tearing.
Death is like a crack on the windshield of our cars
that expands and expands,
The spider
braids its web scattering in and out of your eyes
that widens and widens,
spreading in every breath,
on our skin.
Experience furrows through our forehead ,
munching on our flesh, our concretion,
rumpling our innocence.
Dust would inhume us
and turn us to frames with inconspicuous
image of once a young man.
Rust
would corrode our mirrors.
Corrosion would expand and sprinkle
on our teeth
on the mudguard of our cars
on our senses, our nerves, our vision, our paint.
Life is the ultimate headsman
a festering wound, the final axe,
a dagger that is destined and paved
to intersect our hearts,
a distance
in which we learn the horizon,
a chance to impregnate space whit journeys,
roads with destinations,
the deserts with oases
pave roads to sunshine,
a distance
which we learn we must go
in order to stay, in order to stretch our lungs
as well as the capacity of our death,
to die
to preponderate and evaporate in the same time.
Life is a voice between two silence,
a bridge between two death
a staircase that we built with our sweat,
to widen out space
to drill through the heights with our pinnacles
to deny the distance between us and our beloveds.
Life is a marble we chisel with our torments
we sand with our youth
we swap our youth our beauty
to mirror our soul.
our inner juvenescence,
a ground we penetrate and spread
to blossom from within
to strew our discernment
versus
our death,
strewing within us.
to return
to recall the
real us
like a seed that its tree.
