(2011)
CONDITIONING
I want to make you
what spring does with cherry trees.
P. Neruda Your
wore, hung from a knot in your stomach,
verses of Neruda that conditioned
the vision of that white sea.
I was in the retina
a duplicate of those springs of children who knew
of a stir in the breaks when it is light. Your
cried pain invaded branches.
I laughed the pleasure of wearing veils, first communion. Your
asphyxiation. I the wings.
And the two
the desire to hang tabs
landscape snowy petals open to the fruit,
branches loved or raped by the flower.
All rights © Angeles Fernangómez (text and photo)
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