If I could choose a thing to be
I would choose a bay window
overlooking the garden.

If I could choose an animal,
I would be a flying one.
Maybe a bee, in extinction,

or a pensive nocturnal owl
flying silent, dodging obstacles,
sleeping in trees.

If only I could choose
what to be at all
I wouldn't even be here,

but out in space
gravitating aimlessly,
crossing a nebula

No matter up nor down,
no matter left nor right.

But I know instead
I'm an earthly thing
with an animal shape,

a merry-go-round horse
that can only do so,
to go round and round

until I yield or give up
to the course of events
that made me choose who I am.

11 de abril de 2018