| I always lived here
but I admit it
I don't know my house.
Unexpectedly
I discover endless corners
undefined attics
stone stairs.
I don't know mi house.
At times,
In my routine
an unsuspected room bursts in,
a chamber behind a chamber
a house within a house.
The situation admits no excuse.
In a corridor I will uncloak myself
of estrangement.
After deciphering the signals
I will wash the discolored walls.
and polish the floors,
the stairs.
I'm obliged to find
my plans' quarters
to invite them for dinner.
I must enter death's room,
we have to talk.
And where does the future frolic?
I shall clean its windows.
The past has no room
It awakes in any bed.
When everything is done I will sleep
and in the morning
I will announce from a balcony
I'm here, I'm home!
Patricia Rios - NYC 2001
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