That bright darkness
You have closed the door again
to run away from the darkness
but in your armoire waits the night.
Your buried self was imposed
it chose me to force a fissure
to hear the unvoiced plea
to see the beast behind the bars
of your eyelashes.
I am the only one with round face,
and indian traits, brown-skinned
in the faculty, the workshop, the class
the only one who dares to face you.
I am the flesh in which you pin your nails
mine is the hand you cut still attached to it
mine the stained face because of your puke.
I am gambling your corduroy
and mine.
I want to give you the back
wash my hands
but they remember every mark
every nail embedded in the wall
my feet recognize every stone you step
when you stumble I am in danger too
and remember
those who yelled
push Gloria breathe Gloria
I feel their hands lifting me up, encouraging me
until I face the bloody and throbbing darkness
that now tries to scream
from the space between your legs
I feel again the claws scratching my gut.
I remember hating it/me/them for pressuring me
as I pressure you now
I remember the dam breaking
flooding the walls
I remember opening the eyes a day
feeling that something was missing.
The pain was not there, it is gone the fear
that have stalked me the whole life.
And then I saw the divine presence
it was black and had my name
it talked to me and I talked to it.
Here we are, four women covered in guilt
you for not pronouncing the names
me for not lending a hand before.
I don’t know how long I could continue invoking
that dark animal
getting it out from you, from me
calling it god or goddess
while everyone says no no no.
I know I am the Beast that fences your home
glimpses your window
and that you feel my prey.
But I know that the Beast is you
you its prey
you who gives it the light
you that bright darkness
And I know everything its reduced to this:
life or death, life or death.