The wounded woman
Only if you once loved
with tooth and nail
no safety net
no life jacket
are you able to understand the bottomless vertigo
that opens at the feet of despair.
She thought she'd found the source of the beginning
when she met him in the middle of the earth
with no shield other than his skin,
polished by the sun like ancient gold.
She loved him without precariousness or questions
with that voluptuous gratitude
that the spring rain awakens.
Everything was so simple.
The silver-plated verses of countless poets
seemed to follow her everywhere
as if her heart had become
a faithful pet.
Because nothing endures eternally
one night she learned, as so many have done
before and since
that love is a river with its own rapids
and others' peaceful pools
that always flows to the sea.
Look at it this way: life has taught you,
following its habit of a tireless teacher,
how the soul draws
serene scars on old wounds.