Listen to me
Nobody is separate
from anybody else
Here I am
in the womb of my
blooming in the joy of
hidden rhythms
on the lips of dreams
the window from where I
sharpened to the point of infinity
the words kept forming
a door in my imagination
~ Cento of lines taken from Frida Kahlo’s Diary, translated by Barbara Crow de Toledo and Ricardo Pohlenz, p. 211, 215, 230, 235, 243. 245, 270, 272, 273, 281, 283
5 thoughts on "Listen to me"
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womb of my blooming! lots of ooombs there to trip over. i like it.
Thanks!
Beautiful poem–wise and immediate.
Thank you, Donelle!
in the womb of my
blooming in the joy of
hidden rhythms
Love your chosen images.