Invent the truth


Xavier Villaurrutia

I put my ear to my chest,

like a seashell on the shore.

I hear my heart beating, bleeding,

and always and never the same.

I know why it beats like that, but I can not

say why it will be.

If I started saying it with ghosts

of words and deceptions, at random,

I would come, trembling with surprise,

to invent the truth:

When I pretended to love you, I did not know

I loved you already!

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