Second Prayer of My Body

This body which lies like a bridge between two shores,
this body which lives on the dawns of your desires,
will be even tomorrow the same as it is today,
but with two marks more from two sharp blasts of gunfire,
this body which lies like a bridge between two shores.

This body which lies like a bridge and waits long in patience
for someone jovial to come and wake it up again . . .
Flow beneath this body like a river that has been harnessed,
to echo strong in tenderness with every curving arch—
this body which lies like a bridge and waits long in patience.

This body which lies like a bridge, waiting for a wave to seize it,
to catch in it a glimpse of its own forgotten face,
will become through all these awakenings and phases
a tangible beacon of intangible desires,
this body which lies like a bridge, waiting for a wave to seize it.