- Living or Surviving?-

Again,
she is as lonely as a coelacanth;
hidden in the dimmest depths,
slowly sinking into secret slopes,
surviving, yet deprived of tenderness.

When she sees a tiny crack
in the wall of solitude
- the minutest trace of feeling
in an urban human gaze,
without being mislead by hope's craziness -
she wonders:

Can she rush into the eyes,
travel deep inside a smile,
feel the warm blood of the living,
touch and embrace without rejection?

She's unable to stand the pressure
of goods and status to be bought,
of the greed and violence that hurt her,
oozing from their eyes, voice and breath.

But if she closes that little space,
if she leaves no room for them,
does she still have a place in her
that belongs to the human race?

Like a coelacanth, she's a living fossil,
with eyes too sensitive to stand the light.
The insistent stare of strangers
could make her choose to sink.
Again.