She is very sublime.
It is untouchable, pure, unreachable and free.
It is worse than a useless butterfly.
It is crueler than the hummingbird that possesses the instant of peace.
It is pretty, light and fragile.
And he believes that with his smile he can solve everything.
The worst thing is that it can solve everything.
Two words and it undoes me.
One act and it knocks me down.
My bitter, sour breath does not serve to drive her away.
My smell of sweat and blood does not scare her.
My stupidity does not distract her.
She is focused on being beautiful.
My clumsiness does not hinder it.
My dirt does not stain it.
My furrowed brows do not frighten her, nothing intoxicates her.
Not even these clumsy hands can touch it.
Nor do these empty words say anything to him.
Photography by Martin Canova
Mexican author of literary fiction and non-fiction, facilitator of Creative Writing Workshops in Mexico, the United States, Kenya, and Cuba.