there are so many versions of our
humanity
and those who strongly believed that they are right
come before our table and
tell us what to do with our lives.
everything has become do this and do that
don't do this and don't do that
these rule makers never think if they could be
(possibly) wrong
their eyes are so stable
focused and i have not seen them blink for a moment
sometimes i wonder if they can still see the stars in
heaven
sometimes i ask if they also have nights in their homes
since all they speak are about light
and fullness and happiness
they only have days and preoccupations
there is no more room for air for space for possibilities
and i wonder if they also know how to breathe
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem