Friday, February 4, 2011


Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal

I was never clever,
never inspired envy.
I found my own island,
closed up my feeble mind.

I learned how to float one
morning with my face up
to the sun. Shadows all
around me. My island

was sinking. My island
was without fish. There were
wild birds in the sky. They
started to talk to me.

I longed to fly like them.
I wanted to fly to
the sun. I wanted to
catch fire, be the sun’s food.

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