Desarma y sangra

Your time is a glass
your love a fakir,
my body a needle
your mind a tapestry.
If leeches can't hurt you
there's no school that teaches how to live.

The watchful angel discovers the thief
cuts off his hands,
takes away his voice,
people hide
or barely exist,
forget about man,
forget about God.

I look around,
wounds that come,
suspicions that go
and here I am
thinking about the soul that thinks
and for thinking is not a soul,
disarm and bleed