Breathing Beyond Air


Once again, death was here to visit.

His hand ready to edit the tears

of what I have lost between the lines

of my last canto.


Death, where did you hide the voice

that hardens my nipples?

You stripped to show me the virility

with which you hope to rip out my sun's

fire, humiliated by the outline of a vein.


My tree is ready for its new growth,

yet I want no limits to your touch.

Death, I know you want me to return

the visit, but I do not sleep well in arms

of the vanishing voiceless twilight.


- Sergio Ortiz