The women that I most loved/the most

those that drove me/made me really crazy/for sure

the girls with whom (I) wanted everything, wrote.

 

My mother/mum lasted/did until second grade and did not

look at my homework/notebooks, nor she could

colour a map with me nor help me

with an accounting/math exercise/problem.

 

The school and home were

a broken chain in/on my head.

Every time I saw her signing something;

the report for primary school,

a document at the bank,

I noticed that she was doing it slowly/calmly

like someone recovering/recuperating from a blow.

 

I ask myself if the women I loved

those that drove me really crazy/for sure

the girls with whom I wanted everything

were my intellectual upward mobility/force

 

if choosing women who write

is to hide that which I lack/is missing in me

every time I leave them

or they leave me.