La Guillotine
Why She snatches my breaths?
If I can’t Love Her
The way I want to do
I am alive for I am not dead!
My voice travelled
Across the universe and came back
To listen to its buried
tenderness
Was to flog myself
In the brightest hour of
Revolution
When the master was burnt
Alongside his slaves
I was creating a list of crimes
Committed by others
Bestowed upon me
Hold the bars!
Look through the vista!
Was the color of your foe’s blood
not red?
Clotting in the desert ruled by vultures
Were their women not like your
mothers and daughters?
Keeping the last shred of shroud
on their dismal bodies
Would butterflies in their fields
not call flowers their lovers?
2012-03-14~15
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