Invisible moon


There she goes
ripped apart

bleeding poetry

as somebody thrusts another love-knife
deeper and deeper.

she.
who is she?
(nobody,
nobody)


she,
the invisible doubt
desguised in woman,
the silence beneath the silence
refusing acceptance,
the dominated slave whipping
the master.
the impossible her
ruled by two suns.

you can make
and remake her,
you can break
and destroy her.
she is invisible.
she is nothing.
she is a poet.

karla bardanza


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