TO DIE IN YOUR SKIN
Thick becomes the gaze when from the chimneys you see rise the smoke of charred skin, thick it becomes when the earth refuses to swallow the bodies that are that are half dying and half living. Thick is the odor of the military dress with its crosses and signs, that is jumbled with the tremor in the floor as he approaches me. The signs and the suits place cynicism and power over life, a mistake that is duplicated every day.
To die in your skin is to remain, in the end, far inside with the fear, which without knowing it already went over and into you, and which left you only with breath as an excuse for life. To watch the skin dry, while others walk to dying pools and gas chambers, to shiver with the gaze of the guard and to think that it might be the last thing you take with you.
To die in your skin is to have nothing, only your breath and a vague shapeless senseless hope. It is to see how life is wiped out and not have the strength to stop it, the battle to breathe consuming all thought. To die in your skin is to know you that are abandoned, lost in the clutches of a demon and to not remember the name of the Highest. But to have the certainty that He remembers you every instant. It is to lose your gaze into a distance and never look upon the World again.To die in your skin is a sacrifice, a Holocaust, to some unknown demon. And if you ever come back to life, the tatters of skin will not disappear or heal for all of the future generations, who will carry on with the tatters and memories
BENJAMÍN MOLPO
Thick becomes the gaze when from the chimneys you see rise the smoke of charred skin, thick it becomes when the earth refuses to swallow the bodies that are that are half dying and half living. Thick is the odor of the military dress with its crosses and signs, that is jumbled with the tremor in the floor as he approaches me. The signs and the suits place cynicism and power over life, a mistake that is duplicated every day.
To die in your skin is to remain, in the end, far inside with the fear, which without knowing it already went over and into you, and which left you only with breath as an excuse for life. To watch the skin dry, while others walk to dying pools and gas chambers, to shiver with the gaze of the guard and to think that it might be the last thing you take with you.
To die in your skin is to have nothing, only your breath and a vague shapeless senseless hope. It is to see how life is wiped out and not have the strength to stop it, the battle to breathe consuming all thought. To die in your skin is to know you that are abandoned, lost in the clutches of a demon and to not remember the name of the Highest. But to have the certainty that He remembers you every instant. It is to lose your gaze into a distance and never look upon the World again.To die in your skin is a sacrifice, a Holocaust, to some unknown demon. And if you ever come back to life, the tatters of skin will not disappear or heal for all of the future generations, who will carry on with the tatters and memories
BENJAMÍN MOLPO