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Te fuiste, si te fuiste. Y no supe afrontar nuevamente un abandono. No es tu culpa que los fantasmas de mi pasado me persigan. Pero me hubiese gustado que seas las energías de mi futuro.
Todos los días a la misma hora, mi corazón hace corto circuito y te extraño, te extraño y lloro.
The Shotgun Speaks
by Carrie Rudzinski
For the man who told me
“I’m going to be a father soon.
Thank God it’s going to be a boy.
If it was a girl,
I’d have to buy me a shotgun
and shoot whoever she brought home.”
THE SHOTGUN SPEAKS
You, sir, are my favorite kind of my beast:
the hunter who has become a cannibal.
The one who knows it is so much easier
to hunt what you have always been,
that flesh is just flesh as long as it runs.
Tell me, what does your daughter smell like?
Does she love as hard as she bites?
Do the catcalls now stick in your throat?
Do you dream of the women
who’ve swallowed you whole?
What do you fear the most:
the mirrors of men she will bring home
or the constant reminder of the daughters
you’ve stalked? Are you still excited by the dark?
The burst, the carcass, purpled thighs:
My darling, where have your hands been?
What weapons would you plant
in a son?
otravezm0ri