Marginal
I am this land I name
These environs this fire where a glance agitates
I tend to divide days months years
In a brief pause from my life
If I live I also belong to that torrent of debris
Marginal wall
A vine has to persist when it returns
Burning lime or stone or cracks
That hard muted light moves me
Guillermo Sucre, La mirada (Caracas: Tiempo Nuevo, 1970)
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