Sin Fronteras Spring 2017 Sin Fronteras Spring 2017 | Page 52
Grief and fear of death
Betrayed his gifts
It was a battle in his heart
Whether to be consumed by hate towards nature
Or to embrace the perfection of it Time became infinite
And each step torment
As he walked twelve blocks to the nearest plaza
And placed the corpse, still wrapped in the sheets
On the center of the square
How precise the bacteria was;
How agile
And quick There, he liberated his wife from the smooth linen,
From the camisole that covered her pale skin
And exposed the disease’s masterpiece
Every drop of blood
That swirled down her cheek
Carried a tale of agony It had created a bigger,
Majestic sculpture
One that he would have never been able to even imagine
Nor create
Every cough
Her lungs had exorcised out
Now formed perfect crimson patterns
As the human machine shut down
Her skin began to whiten
As if the bacteria had pushed the power button
Off
Her starveling fingers
Laid so calmly,
So relaxed
Resembling a flower
About to bloom
But he could expose the work
That surpassed morality and ethics
Every splash of blood
Every bruise
And every single bony limb
For the man had once again found beauty
On the darkest side of nature.
Pushed by broken heart,
And pulled by a grenade that had lost its safety pin
Filled with anguish, despair and distress;
Feelings that are more dangerous that a gun,
He took his wife in his arms,
And carried her outside
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