Identities

In northern countries with round hills

and mist rising from the lakes

I was Greek.

In faraway continents

with canyons and red deserts

I was European.

In the dark alleys of big cities

with frightened footsteps and hurried keys

I was a woman.

And in this small

wild plot of land

where I saw the colour of water and fine insects

I was a cell

who could not tell apart

flowers from worms and grass

but breathed the ancient task

on the ground.

Parallel nature

Every day in the city

I don’t look at the beasts

I look at the birds.

I don’t see the hyenas next to the garbage bins

the wildebeests in their morning migration

the lions inside the lit offices

the antelopes on the sidewalks

the jaguar hidden in the park

the ironclad rhinos

shortsighted, always ready to charge.

I look at the birds.

I swear

on summer parties in back yards

on dances, on weddings

on festivals

on friends’ houses

on my walks with them

on the big screen of this phone

on the body inside me

on the secrets we share in the night

on the joy of this child, running towards me

that I will never forsake desolation.