My Poetry

My poetry is nervous, as it keeps talking

it forgets to buy a ticket, it’s forced to get out

but each time

some anonymous friends see it home

it’s got no glory

for the simple reason that she has never wished for it,

it’s got no religion

because it loves life very much

it doesn’t make proselytes

because it never looks back

it doesn’t pay any visits

it doesn’t expect anyone to come

it doesn’t have coloured dreams

it doesn’t have to stare in order to get something

it’s got everything it needs

English version by Gabriela PACHIA