As in the convents

As in the convents



I look inside of me
there is only silence
as in the convents

I walk corridors
corridors corridors
where the memories
walk in line

I go counting doors
one two and open three
a naked woman prays
before a cradle

dark tears
paint her cheeks
white wings
hang from a chair
while her crying
becomes sea
under his knees

She looks at me
and I look at her
she has my face
and I hers

I look inside of me
mirror shards
they rain from the roof
everything is done

and I start again
to remake the glass
of my reflection
for when I look in my inside