from  I DEAL DEATH

1

Morning sickness

what aquatic life in me
- what flower - comes to sting my throat?

what trembling fractures what belly?

throbbing inside me

what Death am I carrying?

3

like blood it came out
and in my body I slept

waking

                        I danced
                                    and danced

my new freedom

I weep
            and
                        confess

5

love
the sickness is over

my belly has stopped

not even the sharp edge of a caress
can protect me

7

full of nettles and precipices

I go like a hedgehog
to the deepest rock
to burst
              licking my fear

8

not even the clay
of me

my son is a hollowness

a vertigo

some kind of Death
that sets fire to stubble on my tongue

11

your eagerness withers
under all this skin

with no more tomb than mother

12

quivering

not crying

there
            where my hand can't reach

14

of his mouth
the sting survives

the little tooth
                      the poem

15

I tie a snake
to my belly

the heavy fang
to my throat

                  all night

baby pebbles soaking

16

unburdened

the mornings no longer sing

there is no tree
no sun that can hide me
when the beast approaches

17

lost in the depths
                            the word MOTHER

devours cradles                        devours cries
                        on vital waters

in my belly like a fist
emptiness creeping

18

I bear the sign
     of those women

my hair matted
the staircase moving

                                    tomorrow nothing

                                    tomorrow death

22

my lips go dry

looking for earth

                                    to kiss you in

26

let worms and vultures come

I will give food

I will give monthly ashes

I will give silence

28

you should have been a flood
colored hours and senses
drawn your little foot with rage
gone on knocking from inside

then Death
with its false nurse's uniform
would know you set hair on fire
you come back as an eye
making your way through the flesh
and its hand going in

- a voracious instrument -
would pull back scared

29

its fingers
                  wipe out the rain

dig roots out of my body

arid I lie down
                  docile I receive it

and you erect
             scarcely a premonition

30

Looking into mirrors
your mother prunes from her locks - like metaphors -
the weight of one, two
                                                - how many children? -
that bend her back

your father is a tunnel
his name is Death

your mother at the typewriter
lays bare words to forget:

To my brothers and sisters

Down river
through the forest of childhood
                                        I carry them on my back
                                                                   tiger or lion
sweet wounds
                                        each in the side

Why do the doors of love hurt?
Why is there blood in tenderness?

The night
still long
searches for us

- Animals that we were of the same danger -

not knowing where to strike
                                                                    shout

and let it hurt and be understood
                                                       that we are all planets
                                                       of the same light.