endless poem

we are born from father seed

sighed
hurtled
raised to our mothers
people

we learn to walk more often
with increasingly heavy soles
on the soul
increasing on the heart

but there comes a time when

I do not know who I am
where I come from
where can I go

tell me please
my dear

and what to do then
when
I crush on me the night

step on me
put in me sharp elbows
words that I said I did not

birth is only a fragile passing
from father to son
trough the woman's womb

yes
we are born with a cross hanging
on crown
as a final sign in which we are
closed

so just so
we understand that
not the body is not guilty
but the soul
he is one who walks into another
he just leaves us half naked
half on the sky
half scared

I do not want to
write in me
with your fingernails love

I refuse to grow old
I refuse to write my name from A
straight to the edge
please placing it in my place
in the last moment

I swear that
I'll stay with your thoughts

I guess
with every word that I am wrong
that we are no longer outside
than a cross