by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal
Who will want us?
There is evil in our hearts.
Our heads don’t think right.
My prospects dwindle.
Your blue heart splinters.
It does not get easy.
Heaven and Hell attacks us.
We have no shelter.
Our arms hang on us limply.
At midnight we lurk at sea.
The sand covers our eyes.
The moon shines on.
A flash of lightning strikes us.
We cannot defend ourselves
from the angels and demons.
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