
que de mi pecho nace toda esa luz pulsátil...
Escribir,
habitar el aire,
cambiar mis zapatos por dos alas
que desordenen el silencio del polvo,
el silencio que no es silencio
para beber azucenas en tus senos pulsátiles
con aureolas pétreas sobre la lluvia.
Pulsátil,
pétreo,
aureolas...
Escribir
en el silencio.



that all that pulsating light is born from my chest...
To write,
to inhabit the air,
to exchange my shoes for two wings
that will disrupt the silence of the dust,
the silence that is not silence
to drink lilies from your pulsating breasts
with stony halos above the rain.
Pulsing,
stony,
halos...
To write
in the silence.


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