Preguntas

I curse and you ask
Why do I frown,
Why do the dawns
Leave my chest
Full of holes.
Maybe it's the night, opening up
Like a terrible flower.
Maybe it's the damn news
Or a voiceless woman
Cornered by fear.
Or the deafening silence,
A feverish planet
Between fires and storms,
A child cutting palm leaves
In a dark jungle,
The unemployment line, end of the month,
Your absence, everything I won't do.

I curse and you tell me
Enough of the complaints.
Sorry, I say,
Maybe it's the dream,
The lack of dreams.
It must be that the house, without her,
Is not a home, it's a wasteland,
And my voice without her voice,
A scratch on the glass,
Or the letter of a man
Who misses his home.
Maybe some goodbyes,
The memories, their wounds,
Gaza battered,
Smoke and tears in its ashes.
It's the world illuminating horrors
And I only offer curses.