by Marina Cecilia Kohon
The Oracle foresees:
Dreams demand a truce.
Love is an ivy plant that demands,
The rebellion will lit up the fire
(it’s that my voices have gotten tired)
Your adaptability will undo the charms
Look for shelter in the white sheets
(but my hands bleed without the verses)
Go back to the mud of your childhood
Read the omens in the tracks.
(Odin blocked the shortcuts
He always maintained the invulnerability of my destiny)
Go along the only road.
Everything is uncertain except the future,
the runes will get arranged trying circles in the horizon.
Don’t listen to the firmament
Break the straps off your voices…
(I let the wind pull the roses off their petals)
Your flesh will transmute into other spaces.
Reid will give you the strength.
Don’t be afraid
You’ll beat love.
Then you’ll be able to put it away
Next to your other trophies.
(Sometimes, it’s dangerous to play Pythia)
Last updated July 05, 2015