Continuous

Continuous

by Rafaela

A bit of the corporate headquarters

In this, your parched throat

of suffocated words.

Time is

And life is that they pass

Within the compass of music touching your radio.

You are accustomed to everything:

To love, to lose,

And to take your coffee each morning

knowing that the paper announces nothing new.

This imprisoned suffering, your house a bird cage

Perhaps waiting death,

And who knows, the release.