Mourning
I let myself go in sadness
the void invades the hollow of my body
tears hang from eyes
runny nose
I open the sob
have a voice
the body falls to the ground
heavy as can be
the cat brushes it
and look for contact
got sick
and sadness too
takes the form of a cat
her cinnamon hair wraps me
rubs against my sides
comforts me
your inner eyelids
they expanded
I am worried
I get busy
no diagnosis yet
and walk down the street
and the tears want to come out
also for Gringo and his eyes
so sweet and blue
now rare
his eyes are a reflection of mine
until the energy changes
I release the silence
I inhabit the void
I look at my face in the mirror
and in the cat.
the poet was born
when he said
no drama
detained in the body
of Mr. De Luzia
"I'm here
like a fiction
a character
what do you write
This poem"
located one day
January 19
from 2021
of the calendar
Gregorian
"And sometimes
of the day when
some fictions
riddle my peace
I come back here without me
where it smells
a warm air
and a mantra
Eastern
shut up fiction