I talked with the fragment of my mother

that did not want to die

it resisted

it was the rack that loses sanity
and is the cut off sinew

because of the fencing of fire she held
we had to bury her with the hands tied

I could talk with that cold jar
of blood that is dying
I saw a smashed god I saw a powder
stake in his breast

and that piece of ear that throbbed
like a sacred silk
like the last ship
like the final pulse of the flame of a splinter

and that third of mother I am left with
and it weighs more than the world
and it is a boiling diamond
that I bury between my eyes

to that vial of faith they handed me over
merciful desolate surgeons
I could talk to her
and say

good bye little one
sleep
there will be no wild beasts in the darkness

Translated by Nicolás Suescún.