María Fernanda Del Castillo Sucerquia (Colombia)
María Fernanda Del Castillo Sucerquia is a poet, narrator, proofreader and therapist in oriental medicine. Study foreign languages at the Universidad Del Atlántico. He was born in Barranquilla, Colombia in 1997.
He has participated in numerous recitals, festivals and local and national literary meetings. His poems have been translated into English and Kannada. Published in anthologies, blogs, magazines and national and international newspapers such as El Heraldo, Latitud, Sol y Luna, Crisol, María Mulata, El Espectador, Filogicus, Por esto, and others.
I’m already in the wagon, my love! I have the little white dress and the criss-crossed hair as you love so much. My whole life is the road on waiting for you. I dance and sing, and the voice breaks, the legs collapse. I write on the walls your dreams of freedom in me. On the last train I will take you up the emerald field and you will flock yourself cherub by cherub to the heart of the land yours. I love you forever and ever and you alone light myself bonfire. You are worth more than the pain of being imprisoned in the helplessness of a homeland that forgot to be a father and mother, and is chasing me to tear off my dress and cut off my braid No! I will not give him the paradise that sings the echo of your heavenly music, this belly devoted to your rose garden. A sun warms me in the horrible night, I open my eyes inside myself. I will always be your little girl, every wrinkle and gray hair that blooms tells me reasons to become myself you, gardenia that inaugurates spring. Imagine my humanity in the hand of compassion. Don’t let me die if it’s not for your birth. I wait for you, I wait for you…
If you talk to me and I close my eyes, I didn’t fall asleep. I see the birth of the poem I haven’t written yet. Your verb brings me out of my ignorance, pronounces the misunderstood, whispers my inexpressive gesture. Birds of unmentionable color cross the silence of the sky. I listen to you and travel in the voice that inhabits my dreams. I am united by your laughter with the joy that lurks me for centuries of longing, sleeplessness and lament. You shut up in me the word he doesn’t say to me. We are in a dialogue of intuitions between your light and mine. With the unsaid I trust you the secret of my love and my darkness. In memory, do not look for me, light my lamp of sacred letter and pronounce me with the mystery of your being. Open my eyes with your looking on me. I inhale the breath of dawn, its awakening paints my lips to create you. You sunrise in the mouth from Elohim.
I don’t regret giving up the thirst. The desert is all around me and you plow a spring in my throat. The pleasure flows from me. I fly with the river of your walking, wings of light unfold from the freshness that you sow me, I swim in the humid secret under your sand. The spittle weaves my word into your seed, and the gold under your riverbed covers me with kindness. Mirror, do not remember me, in its luminous water I find the noblest reflection of my spirit. I exhale the stale air, I polish the crystal of the heart, and you reverberate fullness in my litmus chest. Penetrate my cactus into your stream, jump the fish from the dust, break the jug my totality. Flow your life from the life I lack and this verse with the death of what I said in the drought. My fascination about you fills me forever. The beatitude crowns your aura of nascent oasis, amphora of love that ascends with the torrent of trust and in the absence of the chimera pours its creature. I give myself to the reason for being of the light that you conceive in me. Even for the thirst of the world, from my dunes the nectar of your paradise springs!
Don’t touch me to feel you. I empty the memory of the caresses you didn’t give me, I kill the fantasy that insulted your imagination. Mold with your contemplate the ecstasy of forgiveness in my clay marrow. What I was collapses with the stone of your retirement, in meditation you forge your innocence on my shoulders, and the sensation revives me entirely in your caress on me. In the skin of splendor you erect me church with the inspiration and in your papillae my tongue savors the tenderness of your hug and pampering. I embody your intimacy, you feel with my girlish fingertips, you moan in my skin pure boreal petal skin. You cultivate euphoria in every pore of the sky in this face yours. Cheerfulness molds kiss by kiss the mystical and the worldly cohabitation in your art of me. You blush the sky of my nights with your osculation of fire, you establish the age of the sun in my heart, you consent my humanity with your feeling. I fall in love with the hummingbird love sustained in eternity that delves into me from our world. Your reflection slides down my back and I abstract from everything in you. That the voyeurs call me distracted because of rest my attention on the transparency of your welcome. Nobody knows about my trembling.
I call you and you respond with your looking! I renounce to hear the world for hearing my name from you. I cannot find the way of light to express how much I love and miss you and launch a curse as cherry in the poem of my desolation. I meow, bark, roar, whistle and there is no sound that revives your word of ripe fruit in my cry from peasant girl without land. You throw me to the tigers in your defense and swear not to entrust yourself to me until I dress in their skins. I bare my protest and you close your eyes of spring. I hesitate to save myself and not even a phoneme consents to the bribe of these thighs that climb any mountain by dying on your hips. Make creak my fallen leaves with the march of your sonorous reflection. In the path of your thinking my walk rejoices and in your hissing fire your soul cohabits with my body. I am near to a vowel of succumbing to fangs, claws, bang and you make victory in me. You crown me with understanding in your abandonment to my will, I lose my voice to create your tongue, you germinate melody in my genes with celestial electricity. Ah, how much land do I discover when I feel your meow, bark, roar and whistling as the war stops and the future yawns. Silence, the cicada orchestra in my green feline bed. You emerge rhythm of my verb, harmony of pulsation in verse, order of symbols that deciphers the heart. Honest and unremitting narrates your intuition the pilgrimage of my dreams. I wake up poem written by you. You already read me, you sing to me, you whisper to me, you better look at me forever.
Don’t shorten and contract, sky mine. Every day I die my absence impacts with you. My mouth sculpts the architecture of movement on your lips and seriousness become in curve in gratitude. With the happiness you rain on my rock our moment is sculpt and the twilight of rigidity is nascent art within me. The stream of my fingers undermines the block that hangs over your chrysanthemum face. With your relaxation, breathe again my humanity. I sink into your iron will, in your softness I build my temple, I live under your nakedness of an angel that cemented the calm. In the porcelain of your being I strengthen myself before exile. I am leaving the world to devote myself to your laughter of eternal wriggle. Do not bring flowers if it don’t germinate from the blood that runs and the veil that dances with the wind. The smile of your heart is the last thing that kisses my breath before leaving at the wait for you. The shadow will flow jumping light on your return to me, you will join the dance of infinity in which my being joins yours to create a seraph. Be the big bang that begins the universe that harbors the nature of my love. Expand into the emptiness of the world that I was.