The run

I tore off the morning ropes,
That clamped my body
Mutilated by the slowness of his designs
And I ran towards the ocean,

In front of the first sprays,
I saw fading away as if caught
Silhouettes dressed in
Of thin inflatable fabrics

I passed through their smells.
I held my breath and my sight
Near their frivolous bodies,
The time of an apnea.

The sea was in trance,
But I continued my race.
While my steps trembled
On the sand,
The wet sand.

I ran on the pier
Like a ticket cashed.
A ticket gone
Half smoked
By the frozen rain

I boosted my pace
At the unheard of sight
Of the ocean that was releasing
Its immense breath
And blew in spittle
Whistling
Its salt
On my passage.

Close to the pier.
A few silhouettes
Heckled by the wind
Were making people move away
With curiosity
My vibrating eyelashes

But I continued
I ran past,
The wise umbrellas
Of women veiled in sweat
At my tangled temples,
The impression of floating

Each of my muscles carried
The silent weight
Of the effort deployed,
The pain.

I ran and
My sight
Has become
Disa
Gregated

Under the weight

Of the

Saccades.

I have

Run

To

The Ocean

I’ve

Touched

The

Heaven

Falling

In

Love

With

The

Water

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