SHAPE OF ABSENCE XVIII
Time has passed since then. We have worn out lots of pairs
of shoes
over the rocks of unfamiliar places, although the trees haven’t
produced fruit for the second season. Time assumes a different
continuum in absence. Many seasons get in between one sidewalk
and the other. Because counting is done based on the huge
gaps of death, and the dead grow at a very, very slow pace.
They, too, can’t stop.
The games you played, rose and moved to the sky.
The small
chair with the wheels became a strange constellation during
the summer nights.
It will take eons before we shall be able to move it back
to the yard. And these eons
have passed over our lives which have deepened, so
much so, that each gesture of mother when she cleans
the table, or makes the bed or when she mends a sock
silently creates a huge shadow that appears intact
on gigantic ceilings as if the light turned upside
down
and everything is lit from down up or from inside out.
Libros Libertad 