¿Who will give us the shovels to excavate the tunnels
where we unintentionally started to suffocate?
With the dust of the decisions not taken and choked phrases
My shovel was always there, like the light that beats in the unmarked horizon
like the hand of a person to be loved
throwing the soil out
the debris that makes me, that makes us, more human
the ruins that made us be
And although I always saw that shovel
I didn't know how to grab it, slipping into this mine void of diamonds
from where I start to resurge
with a helmet well-placed
ready if a new pit shall want to swallow me.
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