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Nothing - poem by Rossana Camarena
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Nothing
Of whatever comes from me,
of what barely
as a tidal wave
as a tongue of salt
like oyster eyes
siren song
in the net of the fisherman
without hunger.
Of whatever comes from me,
of what is curled up
like snails
as a reflection of the moon
as a wave fragment
starfish without a sky.
Of whatever comes from me,
of what he murmurs
as undone foam
as a back-and-forth that grows
as a desire to burst
in wave alone, without sand or sea or anything.
Of what comes from me, not from others, j
ust come, go, and stay.
Rossana Camarena
Writer, workshop, manager, and cultural promoter of national and international writers. Her texts have been published in anthologies and magazines in Mexico, Latin America, and Europe, where she has been translated into English, Italian, Nahuatl, and Galician, as well as in the Dictionary of Women Writers 2018 and the Encyclopedia of Writers of Jalisco 2020, coordinated by the renowned doctor and researcher Silvia Quezada.
Guadalajara, Jalisco
