You cannot separate it and say
attached to clouds, the rain, the moon
cyclones, atmospheric pressure
if you are a woman on the street
a man in the mountain
the girls, school dreaming future
naked under cruel fixed glance.
You draw with startings
you break even a filament and form
part of destiny
the leaves are unhappy, tomorrow.
No wonder it obtains thunder.
It’s easier to cry for finished innocence
and the newspaper.
To cry harder.