Kore
Upright, erect, vertical
like a thunderbolt the Kore was
blowing the conch thundering
echoes, a statue declaring victory,
ethereal, insubordinate, eternal
symbol of beauty, revolutionary
volunteer against the banality of
every societal model expected
behavior, barrenness, she
stood to the heights of
transcendental, just in her
twenties with her fiery red lips
she shone like a moist pebble
creaking under the shoe of the
passersby, image of exquisite
natural beauty, recalled by
the old woman on her empty
bed, a woman who was chased
by all handsome youths, back
then, when she was beautiful
Kore and now, a wrinkled spinster
with no heirs, she feels a tear
rolling down her cheek, now
that she has nothing to look for
but the bitter truth, the merciless
triumph of the unerring Hades
Libros Libertad 