Simon Anton Niño Diego Galera Baena

Like an urn, I stand still by the door
far from the frescoes feeding the night instead
of those strays outside with my smoke.

And the moment, when Jesus broke off
with Jerusalem, has long been forgotten
for nobody crosses their fingers, nobody
waits for a miracle, not anymore.

The stooped, trembling monk whispers to me like the crow:

"The key is not meant
to unlock what the hole
may not show".