miércoles

No room for soldiers or dancers

I can’t mark the limits of people’s bodies. This city is sometimes like one giant human being. 
There are arms and legs everywhere moving in the same direction and making the place come to life, breathing in unison. Sometimes it’s the opposite, the body parts struggle and they get all tangled up tearing the hearts apart. 
But right now everyone moves slowly towards the same place, a wave of submissive people with their heads down. 
There’s no structure that can support them. All their bones have melted into a common bloodstream that’s clogging their veins. No room for soldiers or dancers. The air is stale, it gets so stuffy in here that sometimes we can’t breathe... 
We have to fight to get are bodies back, to be separate individuals, to have our very own thoughts again. We all hope we’ll soon be liberated. 

1 comentario:

oh nikita dijo...

uff, ya me siento oprimida, libérenme, alguien!

muy bueno, estaba pensando en que es difícil escribir poesía en un segundo idioma,

sigamos escribiendo, besos