THE DEAD HOUSE
Thus, they wanted to give birth to them in a wider,
more sunlit and firmer place, one that wasn’t hollowed
by crypts, catacombs, and graves; in a house without
doors that lock and behind them you hear whispers,
sobs, and the great echo from a woman’s hair falling
on her knees or the sound of a shoe falling away
from the bed, finally in a place where you seek solace,
truthfulness and security, in a spring countryside, amid
the fresh wheat, next to a red and a gray horse, to a little
innocent donkey, next to a dog, a cow, two lambs,
in the lone shadow of a plough.
Libros Libertad 