FULL MOON ON TOP OF A CHAMPAGNE PALM'S TIP

the fact is a rock in the middle of the river
a big boulder, stuck in the middle of a situation
it stares at you
without any intention at all
to be crushed

everyday the water of the rivers flow from far
arriving there, the waters split
avoiding it
but this rock, this big boulder is a fact
it stays there for years
without the intention that it will crack
even the air avoids it
the stars look at it with anger
the moon never goes near
the universe tells you, a fact is a fact is a fact
which you cannot change
you cry a river of tears, you sigh a thousand times,
you move around it like a whirlpool of water
nauseous, and about to surrender, to dry up like a river
to show a world of stones and sands
and some dead and stinking school of fish
dried moss, and sticks and persistent emptiness
and then the last chance comes with flowers in her hands
you marry acceptance, and walk in that aisle saying
"this is it, this is it, till death, till the end of time"
the priest of offers and acceptances blesses you
saying , "..live happily ever after. Live! Live!"
freedom comes in the face of promises
no matter what.