There are places to which one returns with the thought,
but those who do not dare
to return to the body.
Physics describes as law of impermeability
the opposition of one body to another body
occupy the same space.
From there, I infer, fear is born
to return to certain places:
the fear of being rejected by ourselves,
there, where we think we are not.
Who stirs the chickpeas in the pot
to serve in the dishes they make
queue at the door of the Church,
the one that has no flags or songs
is actually much more revolutionary
that the one who quotes Thesis XI from memory
or he shakes a bass drum with a full belly.
The heart came into the world without flags.
The heart returns to dust without flags.
A pot of chickpeas
it is much more dangerous
than any pamphlet.