the disposable world
does not belong to me. I leave
my skull to deliver the news
the overabundant occupations
the loss of my exceptional fault
worn like the pantomimes
of sorrow, my standing
will not stay true
it is not there
for you to see us. selves
are given to the others
because I am weaker
than the rest. I am not
the heard of all not wanted
a sound of nothing
to believe each jungle
destination, a mirror
reflects me back to the Sea
and it knows the truth
of my secret and remote
mountains in the outlines
of every reflected image
that will not rest
as the jaguar believes
