There’s a noisy step in this staircase, stomping the ground with its surface,
a feeling of not being able to try harder.
Mistaken fears are forsaken deeds.
Stones bear tongues that lick your toes
every morning you step out of Dreamland with conviction
and fiction dismantles your gruntled malfunction.
Sharpened staircases make louder noises
and crying ain’t just for those fears
(or those forsaken, for now they resemble your Pisces)
Feelings get stuck on those droplets
your tiles are embarrased of getting beneath.
Mirad al sueño enredado en su pelo
maraña de suelos de cruel porvenir.
La lluvia saltando saluda a las mantas
ventanas de gente que está sin dormir.
Disorder disguises itself as Future
and Paranoia looks at him from a corner.
While Disaster and Luxury laugh together
and a Smile slides under the sheets.
Rhymes get tangled
(so do the floors)
in rain splashed in windows
and malnourished dogs.
A picture of symbols,
a totem of lies.
Constellations of fear