San Juan, the Conspicuous

When someone says Life!
I cringe and creep behind
the curtains once more.
What do they know afterall?

Each of these eyes
is a blind circuit,
each cherished rose
blends into it again.
Where did the wind
come from this time?
If only this one didn't
try to go missing,
if only this one
didn't pretend to be dead.


*A little about San Juan Day