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‘Ballena’, by Paula Bonet

It’s official thirty eight years
in the making feet hit the floor aspen
lighthearted wood each day
they find their place in the uprising

if only under my breath I skim the surface
and fires rage beneath my chest and I whimper,
I snap, it’s official, I whimper and snap
cold mastery of a life downtrodden
cold lips to say peculiarities
a warm blooded creature
mosquitoes eat my blood and crave my texture.

It’s official I find myself myself at the corner
of extremes at corners of decisions
forks in the road 555 I cannot decide
therefore I hide, therefore I hide.

A lisp that may be understood
but it takes practice I take practice to work
to spin my wheels like an incubator
feeding the egg with light and moisture
have I ever truly grown?

My life path isn’t determined not even now,
swim in no sense repetitive behaviors
that I use to separate myself from anxiety
all up in my head, it’s official it’s all up in my head,
and my body follows the trails
but where I am going,

Top Writer in Poetry. I am a writer, photographer, psychic, medium, and spiritual guide.I have an M.A. in Environmental Sociology.

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