The Untiring Game Two o’clock three o’clock it’s the same old dawn with its old curves of insomnia the pencil plays its latest point in the pointed word that surprises me Three o’clock three twelve everyone dreams of everything that’s happened during the day the untiring game the commotion of the children the endless trips to another’s counter the slippery escapes of astonishment the long halls through which memory transited the stooped bodies of frustrations my Achilles heal José’s fatigue surprise laziness yawns indifference and ¿why not? faith prayers meetings Four o’clock four thirty-four I turn towards the wall anxious I wait for the word the one that doesn’t reach me the one that burns the everyday one. In Case Someone Comes I'll have the sheets ready where dreams will take communion I'll clean the windows the air will run soft and now the smile will have another shape In case someone comes I'll hide the mirrors we won't need the erased im...