I know this guy
who got pissed off
when his wife showed us an old picture of him
ws a child,
all dressed up in a flashy robe,
green with white laces
to the hem
She was browsing an old album
with family photos,
the old pictures starting to lose their lustre
and their colours
like the people they pictured,
some of them dead
and moved to a new state,
Of colorless memories
We were laughing
because we were drinking red wine
and we were alive
and our minds tricked us into thinking
that we’re going to stay that way
indefinitely,
and when the woman found that picture
of his bold, overweight man,
dressed up like a girl,
we laughed even harder,
and then he lashed out at her
Suddenly the wine wasn’t that good,
it tasted sour and stale
and we were all ugly and withered and consumed,
deformed bodies with their living log
written deep down in their skin,
lit up with the tired light
of their eyes
I wanted to tell that guy
that he shouldn't worry,
that he’s not the person in the picture
anymore,
that there have been billion of individuals
with the same name,
and social insurance number,
and civic status,
but different biological selves
between him,
the man sipping from that glass of red wine,
upset at his wife,
and that silly boy,
looking at him intensely and trapped,
dressed up in the green robe
of a girl
Every child is a total stranger
to the adult who grew of him,
every youngster is a total stranger
to the limpy old man who grew of him,
any tall, lushy tree is a different plant
from the tiny sprout
which found the strength
to pierce the heavy skin
of the earth
It is a world of total strangers,
who have the same name, birthdate and birthplace,
drinking from the same dreams
sipping from the same memories
sharing nothing else
than a slippery flake of eternity
