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21
21.Traducida : Nadia Contreras
From: Colima, Torreon, Mexico. Before
After
:
Day Six (operating room)
open and close the eyes. Inside the tunnel someone guides me and tells me "Please do not be afraid." His arms are flare and his voice is filtered as if through a mirror. A bed and the bottom (where the TV is deep fluorescent), preparing medical instruments. The tunnel has disappeared and silence. Just wait for me come to take possession of me. Cutting, pulling the womb of life, loneliness barren; drain, darning, left intact. And in that left intact, I'm opening the blood cascade, night, death. Back. The room is the color of the losses. Losses than anyone else I know.
"=?
Freed from myself and the tumor of decomposition, the ecstasy of the night: pills that crowd, eyes and hands like a dark belly. Salen voices, laughter, children suddenly removed my right arm, my left leg. Above me, the light is too intense, flashing the window and the boy who cries confused expression on a decapitated body. I hear shots. Doctors I have up of drums and songs. Suddenly the silence. Nobody says anything, no cry. "You can celebrate the long forgotten," the card. Drunk with music, the wound is a landscape of footprints. Pain was broke, hematoma of the breath. Now, under the chisel of rain, a dog dragging me.
[My mother, Grace, who can fully complement the story.]
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