Sunday, December 13, 2015

an echo of the last old poem, december 9th, 2012

i want you to stop.
i want you to stop and think right now.
does this matter?
does this really matter?
when you die will this matter? when you feel oceanic
and understand that things like traffic lights and pink rubber erasers
are superfluous will this matter?

retract soledad
retract into your self
retract into solitude

do you want to be happy?
do you want to look up when you walk down the sidewalk?
You have nothing
to be shameful for.
it as easy as understanding
as a separation
as rising up

let the cold air sink
and the hot air rise

remember what it is
that you love

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