First
I remind myself of everything:
the diadems denied;
the public spaces where the body
must hide its shape;
the speeches that must be memorized
while one season sinks and another appears
like an unread page;
the oppressions that preclude our pleasure
in Nature;
the crawling of empty, worn-out dreams
as our seasons come to an end.
Then
I reject it all:
the mistakes of history
the slashes that outline the body
the destruction of the imagination
the wrongs that have entered our veins.