FREEDOM
Dedicated to my friend Ana Muela Soper
It may be true that poets
have a point of beauty and splashing blood
beyond the boundaries of the verb.
If my blue naked on your foam, granite flower
let me in your womb disturbing alga,
an emerald in the sun a thousand oceans. Freedom is
naked
beyond the rumor of oppression, where the voice
which is housed at the port
headband seed
apprentices who Escarce patience of teachers. Rossana Arellano
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