Thirty Years

Thirty years.
Is that the name
of a river?
Of whose origin I cant find,
no matter how far I raft.
Of the one that
does not fall into the ocean,
no matter how far it swam.
Of the one that
makes its presence,
though it doesnt exist.

Scientist

Woman,
I first thought you were my mother.
But when I knew
what I felt for mother
was not what mother felt for father.
then I thought
you were my nanny
who tricked me from my fathers bedroom
in the pretext of stories

The Duramen

The duramen,
It's been inside for sometime;
A surge from my inside.
A force, a strength
which can bend even nails

And I can't feel anymore
those moist rays from the wet eyes
when they touch me, like before.

Feathery seed

Mother should have known my future
While delivering me,

That in this earth,
Where the roots of trees weave mighty nets,
an ounce of land, it's hard for me.
And maybe that's why, she gave
to this miniscule body,
an abundance of wings.