Where have you gone Father, how far ?
Here, in the solid snow, the seven-days snow,
your shadow walks ahead of me.
I wear your thin lips in mirrors like a whore
and your brisk smile like the shape of a war.
Time finds no asylum in me,
the past strangely grew roots of light,
nothing’s dark, nothing’s buried,
I haven’t slept for years.
Between the madhouse and the grave,
the massive drugs and plastic knives,
do you remember me ?
Does any music bruise your lethargy?
Did you unlearn all the songs
that multiplied like cells
in your daughter’s body,
before the schizophrenic detonator
convulsed your steel-blue eyes ?
You should know, you have to know,
they play silently at your door.
Every day, I watch the wooden arms of trees
dance in the cold air, and what my hands
want to say to yours, they let go.
You lie, unawakened, immensely dead
in your double-edged cruelty,
guilty of nothing, devoted to no one.
In your sleep, you drool like a baby,
while the photographic chamber of night
develops pictures you don’t recognize.
Oh daddy, where have you gone ?
How far ? To which dark address
have you sent your heart ?
Even the night cannot tolerate
such senseless black.
See, I wear your lips bright red in mirrors
and swathe your blood in my veins
like the loud noise of impossibility,
Hoping one day, the space you dissolve into
will take forever this version of me.

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