PATHS THAT LEAD NOWHERE

There are specialists in love. A man beeps without stopping,

stuck in a line of traffic. To die of impatience

is one of the ways of not dying alone.

To die against all of those in front of you.

In solidarity with those behind, in the same ignorance

with which one is born. There is a chapel to the left.

Early in the morning, before any cars.

A man confesses and will be pardoned.

There is always someone to guide us.

To preach love in the narrow pathways of the soul.

But if we don’t notice to whom we extend our hand

a nail can sink into our flesh

and your only salvation would be saving us.

The line gets longer. The cross street clogged

by the extension of your cross.