MARIA DEL CARMEN PAIVA
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CEREMONIES

The scent of fire and straw
courses through the passageways
that belong to me,
where I shelter myself.
They evaporate slowly
in the time of the stars
in a brief ceremony of fear.

Two emeralds of fire
burn my eyes,
because the goodbye painted my eyes green
from the time I was born until the end of the centuries.

The minerals of the sky
observe the waters and the desert.

Perhaps a star will bloom.