There is a deed
That takes you to the ring
And in a free style
Sincere fight
Against oneself
Throw the first blow
And in a hellish dance
In which word
Grabs you from the legs
Towards the waist
And throws you back
You try to defend yourself
Use an antonym to interfere
To the senses of the rival
Or to hit one of them
Making the leaf fall
Or is it surrounded suspiciously
Observing their movements
Other times you put your logic
Between your legs
Grab your sensitivity
And raises her
To seat her
About its geometry
Bringing you down
About your isosceles
Until I grasp your senses
And keep them up
Suffering like martyrs
Who cannot defend themselves
Even worse is when
Your imagination grabs you
With both scientific hands
And turns on its own paradigm
To drag her behind
With the aim of releasing her
Rotation completed
And push her against her fable
To make it bounce
Against his own fantasy
For it to be impacted
Against herself
There are other moments
Very difficult
Like when philosophy jumps
Before a poem and in front of him
Raise both knees
-Rationalist and empiricist-
To collide with them
Against its background and form
Then the attacker
Happy in his metanoia
She flops sitting down
Or lying dragging
To the poem so that the force
Of the landing make impact
Those knees against
The thorax of a feeling
That you never saw coming
The severity of the blow
Nevertheless
The fight seems endless
And there is no winner or loser
Each one is thrown from the ropes
And land on the arm / head
Or in the heart of the opponent.