If it were not \u201cprofessional suicide\u201d<\/p>\n
and social,<\/p>\n
if it were not in the imaginary<\/p>\n
to give up everything<\/p>\n
six months away from finishing college<\/p>\n
to make love to you<\/p>\n
and set up a flower shop<\/p>\n
as an idea of \u201csmile does not wither\u201d.\u201d<\/p>\n
is so terribly wrong<\/p>\n
which is a waste,<\/p>\n
then I would drop everything:<\/p>\n
the school<\/p>\n
the city<\/p>\n
Fine Arts<\/p>\n
the neighborhood where I grew up<\/p>\n
the Vasconcelos<\/p>\n
the loneliness that insists on embracing me<\/p>\n
friends I feel so far away<\/p>\n
-far away.<\/p>\n
And I would take the photos with me<\/p>\n
my clothes<\/p>\n
some books<\/p>\n
the guitar;<\/p>\n
all for the airport.<\/p>\n
I would take a flight southbound.<\/p>\n
I would arrive - like last time - very early.<\/p>\n
I would take the Turbus to Pajaritos,<\/p>\n
and there I would call you back<\/p>\n
from the same public telephone<\/p>\n
to let you know I'm coming,<\/p>\n
and I would go.<\/p>\n
I would take a Romani to Valparaiso<\/p>\n
and I would see you again,<\/p>\n
your hands trembling.<\/p>\n
And we would get home<\/p>\n
and again it would not be half an hour<\/p>\n
so that we would be naked,<\/p>\n
but this time without slyly (and with horror) looking at the calendar.<\/p>\n
I would set up a flower shop,<\/p>\n
we would go to the sea,<\/p>\n
to the Docas to camp,<\/p>\n
and I wouldn't feel so far away<\/p>\n
so foreign.<\/p>\n
And then,<\/p>\n
I don't know,<\/p>\n
whatever comes.<\/p>\n
Keep moving<\/p>\n
following the sea,<\/p>\n
maybe (hopefully) with you,<\/p>\n
both of us accompanying us;<\/p>\n
or with new friends<\/p>\n
or with anyone else,<\/p>\n
it doesn't matter much.<\/p>\n
I have always had migratory tendencies,<\/p>\n
I inherited them unintentionally,<\/p>\n
then became<\/p>\n
in flight tendencies.<\/p>\n
They are not new.<\/p>\n
But the idea of running to you<\/p>\n
warms my heart<\/p>\n
as when our bodies are<\/p>\n
entangled<\/p>\n
in the morning,<\/p>\n
like hair<\/p>\n
as the ideas<\/p>\n
as the homelands.<\/p>\n
The idea of fleeing<\/p>\n
to you<\/p>\n
makes me<\/p>\n
exhale very loudly.<\/p>\n
Haste is fear<\/p>\n
and the fear of<\/p>\n
from<\/p>\n
rri<\/p>\n
you.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
But here the smiles do not wither<\/p>\n
are worthless without a piece of paper<\/p>\n
uniform<\/p>\n
unidirectional<\/p>\n
unit<\/p>\n
university.<\/p>\n