Trade mark
free verse fable
They settled with, all three in different ways,
according to fate routes
or the ones’ they charted alone.
The first one exchanged
the agony of desire
with the wonder of love.
After the excitement of stolen kisses
and furtive penetrations, inside angles far away
from the lights of that silly world,
she said “I do”.
Can you see her in that picture?
Her terrified gaze by emotions she would have never seized,
on a running train towards:
a steep future, a revolutionary birth, a numbing abortion and a late awareness of being she herself
the captain of her boat.
The second paid
the burden of being in the middle.
A middle ground
between two edges.
In order that someone noticed her
she built up the perfect drama, without
paying attention to the end.
No one wanted to see
those little white stones she left behind her to come back home
because she could not stand it any more.
And she did not know how to say it.
Her granted prayers turned into a prison:
to bare that shame, she was closed up into the house.
Then she recovered, saying “I do” to leftovers of five sisters.
The third one propped up herself
not to disappoint
people’s expectations.
From her
the others expected great things.
At a certain point, she stopped, rebelling to epiphytes and cells.
Her soul tingles
sacrificed to please the world: a pleasant remission.
They were nostalgic
of a nostalgia not different
this time.
That same one delivering the heart
to the impossibility of coming back;
the same one relegating the mind to caress
what might have been…if…
They settled with to prevent
the shame of a stigma,
of origin and birth,
and they were nostalgic
of those themselves
they might have been
if the half of that helical,
defining everything,
belonged
to another man.
