There are bodies ruined by the souls that occupy them,
the body is always cause for hope
singing, hymn, hallelujah, on beautiful skins beautiful bees roar,
the soul that eats from the garbage cans of existence
it rots the body, bends it, destroys it.
there are voices -cavernous despite sweets- that come out of the mouth
of bodies standing on the ground (like animals
talkative quadrupeds), said that there are voices that ruin
faces, voices that come out like steam and climb the air rotting it,
voices that tell lies, deception, scorned icons,
surgeries of rage and the dumbest emptiness,
there are bodies ruined -despite their beauty- by the voices
who spit words stripped of the beauty of the sea.
the bodies will outlive those souls bursting with idiocy,
Those souls are already lining up to enter the supermarket of the
hell, where every offer is an eye of infinite guilt.
but life, true life, is on the fringes of all this.
I kneel before a fly and pray.