Wish for you to take me in your foggy memory, Fluffing away the features of my face, Let it burst into clouds. Let the lakes of tears behind these, Silent, sorrowful, suffering eyes, Be heated in the cushioned silence of your humid shroud, And let the screams and cries that float in those lakes, Flee with a final burst of shear agony, Because overhead the sun was shining, But only grey clouds overcast me. Let me cry into your thickened atmosphere, And hope that no one ever heard me suffer, Because if a tree falls in the woods, And no one is there to see it, No one was there to see the rot inside, The thunder that struck it down. No one will be here to see me, When I vanish into the mist, And whisper into the ears of no one.
Alejandro Barton-Negreiros, ’23