vulnus

VULNUS

I had a body before it rained at night. It was a house of meat with windows on, A small temple where the soul rested its forehead on the skin. Then someone came in In my most sacred darkness and broke the bread of my light. He arrived with thrown stones by absent hands, with sentences born in the dark, With the hatred of those who hurt from afar and leave to others the weight of blood. The bruises went away with the pity of color. The bites left the skin with a tired gait of the animals now satiated. Since then I learned that the bodycan become a foreign room, a bed full of nails, A rose closed by frost in the wrong month. I learned that a word can make a hematoma, that a sentence can leave a scar, That a mockery can chew longer. But inside he remained a nave of shadow, hidden in a wounded church. The skin knows anguish before the mouth, before thought, before forgiveness. He knows the smell of fear, That cold iron that enters the mind and sit like a sick king. He knows the poison of the voice, the stroke of the sentence, the blade of other people's laughter, The bite of the anonymous that throws mud and calls truth their hunger. I brought silence on the shoulders like a black cloak. People saw my face and he said: you are saved. But salvation sometimes It's just a closed door behind which it still burns the room. Then came the perfume. He came without noise, how certain graces come after the ruin. 

He entered the wound with hands of air, with a blood of light, with a dark patience.

He said to me: Your skin is yours.

He said to me: Your soul still has a name. And then I got up with iron on, smoking, leather, ashes, the burnt rose, The bitter resin that only consoles those who have gone through the fire. I got up with black ink of the words received became a seal on the skin. I got up with the stones collected one by one and fused into a crown.

Vulnus. So I called My wound When he stopped being shame and became power. So I called My name When he came out of the mud with a sharper light. So I called My body when he returned to occupy the air with his strength. So I called Beauty Born from my abyss: a liquid armor, a fierce light, a perfume rising from the ashes and says to the world: I am mine. I'm still mine. I lost blood, but I found gold. I knew the shadow, But now government my night.

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