Inaction and inertia
Published in
Apr 20, 2021
The things undone
You will never leave your head.
No one can relive your nights.
Your thoughts are roses in a glass jar,
Forgotten canvases
In the museum’s storage cell.
It’s what you had to say
But didn’t.
Where you craved to go
Before your shins started to shake.
It’s a dropped curtain
That was never again lifted
Drying pipes
From the leakages translation made.
I wonder:
What is it that stops our actions?
What is it that sticks our feet?
Leaving at sight only dusty mirrors
Letting the plot unfold always unchanged.
So that all you keep
Are floods of speculations
And piling drafts
Of scripts for marionettes.
© Cecilia Padilla Iglesias, 2021
