What fault do you have
the chimango that hurt his little wing
right in front of the cat looking at him
with his accurate lynx, like the womb?
And what does the spider blame for my fear
to her dance, than to the Russian
Milena Sidorova in the ballet
Does it make me look beautiful by imitating it?
And I don't want to kill her, it's the other way around
like you I am running to cheer her.
And what blame the dogs that were born
to hunt for prey, for glasses
What does the neighbor mix with the meat?
And what blame the hidden cabbage
of the lightning, the snail and the water
for a mother of leaves that protects
to his purple self-absorbed creature
of my salad?
And what blame the branch that knocks down
the omnipotent breath of the shower
that lasts as long as an illusion lasts
while she never comes back
to the tree that was life
and was it her house?
And what does love blame for imprisoning itself
under the blue shadow of narcissism
like an earthquake that you prefer
Get used?
And what does the frog blame if it does not jump
because a door cut off a leg?
And the rose
what a blame if it ends
so soon its beauty
and in the stem, as a souvenir it leaves
thorns that defend nothing?