Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Dolores Dorantes

12.-Goldwork inlaid painfully onto the sky

“12.-Goldwork inlaid painfully onto the sky, we want to turn around. We want you to have us face down. Your codes burning. The zone you cannot tread. We want you to hold us up pliantly. Line of graves and kidnappings for your consumption. Interchangeable faces. Doll’s legs. When you wish it, the sky opens its mouth. When you wish it, the sky turns and hides you atop our arsenals. We cover our girlish faces. We are the war.”

12.-Goldwork inlaid painfully onto the sky

“12.-Met pijn in de hemel gevatte edelsmeedkunst, we willen omkeren. We willen dat je ons dwingt op onze buik te liggen. Jouw brandende codes. Het gebied dat je niet kunt betreden. We willen dat je ons zachtjes ondersteunt. Rijen graven en ontvoeringen voor jouw gebruik. Inwisselbare gezichten. Poppenbenen. Wanneer jij wilt opent de hemel zijn mond. Wanneer jij wilt draait de hemel zich om en verbergt jou boven onze wapendepots. We bedekken ons kleine meisjesgezicht. We zijn de oorlog.”

“12.-Orfebrería incrustada con dolor sobre el cielo, queremos dar la vuelta. Queremos que nos tengas bocabajo. Tus códigos ardiendo. La zona que no puedes pisar. Queremos que nos sostengas blandamente. Hilera de fosas y secuestros para tu consumo. Rostros intercambiables. Piernas de muñeca. Cuando tú quieras el cielo abre la boca. Cuando tú quieras el cielo se voltea y te esconde por encima de nuestros arsenales. Nos cubrimos nuestras caras de niña. Somos la guerra.”
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12.-Goldwork inlaid painfully onto the sky

“12.-Goldwork inlaid painfully onto the sky, we want to turn around. We want you to have us face down. Your codes burning. The zone you cannot tread. We want you to hold us up pliantly. Line of graves and kidnappings for your consumption. Interchangeable faces. Doll’s legs. When you wish it, the sky opens its mouth. When you wish it, the sky turns and hides you atop our arsenals. We cover our girlish faces. We are the war.”

12.-Goldwork inlaid painfully onto the sky

“12.-Goldwork inlaid painfully onto the sky, we want to turn around. We want you to have us face down. Your codes burning. The zone you cannot tread. We want you to hold us up pliantly. Line of graves and kidnappings for your consumption. Interchangeable faces. Doll’s legs. When you wish it, the sky opens its mouth. When you wish it, the sky turns and hides you atop our arsenals. We cover our girlish faces. We are the war.”
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Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
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