I had also found
the precious metal,
God come from who knows where,
The birds also envied me,
the things around me murmured
envious of my human chance, too
I knew how to rise through bucolic landscapes
and probe from the zenith
the gray cities.
One night or afternoon, I felt lighter,
as if my bones had fallen
tornado of foam, blood air,
the cocoa husk heart.
And the metal? I asked my sides.
And the metal? I asked again
in vain. Then I also knew
what it's like to walk with a hollow chest,
tired feet, and in the look
devious memory of that precious metal
May God know what galaxy it comes from
to stir our blood,
like someone stirring an extraordinary stew.