Destiny
I gave my hand wide open to my destiny and said:
Here is my palm, write on it...
Write all your scripts of your blesses and curses...
Draw everything you want, from my nativity to my
death...
Put anything you have… signs, roads, mountains or
oceans...
Use a flower or a knife I don’t fucking care…
But please …. Keep a little space for her.
He said: I can’t
I said: Why?
He told me that she has already invaded my skin.
This poem is about:
Me