Reading Joe Jiménez Poems Is Like Entering The Haunted House Of My Body

 


 

My body is a haunted house

full of creaks and scars

and whispers.

Memories

of all that was

not

to be.

Of lovers who didn’t know

how to love

and hurt so much that I

in the end as well

lost that ability

de amar

Of that warming flame,

the pure joy

of warm skin

and of letting

It all go,

not even the memory remains.

There was the one

who used me

for some kind of exorcism

I couldn’t work out

why my heart

was in a knot

when I was with him

all the anguish

The angustia!

A crucified man

who made love

with eyes tight shut.

 

As you will have it

I went and found

the opposite,

dark eyes, always,

іEso sí!

wanting to look

at everything

I mean, everything.

A cathedral’s bell

his laughter,

he loved to laugh

and had a cannibal smile.

Being with him

was at first

a revelation,

then came the pain

and I crawled

right back into

the centre

of my body

and curled

tight like a snake

or like a foetus

as he one day silenced

my moans

and then reproached

Silenciosa…

 

My body is a trove

of wounds

since

my child was pulled

softly, softly

from my ribs

and taken.

I learnt to

sleep walk

 

Past the half of my life

an old woman,

some would say

but still a child,

fleeting flashes

of awakeness

shake the fortress

and I wander

Is there still time?

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