RESOLUTIONS

"People change because their minds have been opened or their hearts broken"...
Just came across that quote, created by who knows who.  I'm at a loss.  Do I believe this? Something makes me hesitate to agree fully with this affirmation.  Haven't quite discovered it yet--which probably is not entertaining for a blog entry, since I guess it is to write about discoveries or some kind of epiphany, or something!
I've noticed--which i love -- that I usually have sat in front of the screen with my ten fingers placed in the position, ready to type, and then having absolutely no idea what to write about. 
It's just writing for writing: for the desire, the need, the curiosity. 
Anyway, I digress. 
"People change because..."  I think that is the part I don't quite agree with, or am not fully seduced with. I think i'd rather say people grow.  Growth requires mind cracking and/or heart shattering. It's not the same thing as change.  I can change my pair of pants.  I can change my hair style. Change my home, my nail polish, even my fashion, but it does not necessarily mean growth.  
I'm talking about growth here, fundamental growth.  And yes, of course there must be change involved, inevitably. 
I couldn't care less about this quote, and now feel somewhat turned off about this whole analytical ordeal. But my true intention and my thoughts are that people should strive to grow.  Work on it, work for it. 
I've noticed that. I'm an observer. I can say that passionately. I'm crazy over it.  Watching, noticing, spying.  And through this watching I notice how little people really look.  Marching soldiers from point A to point B, abandoned bodies who travel with no awareness.  This is harsh for me to say, and I'm a bit of a jerk to generalize.  I walk through streets and see the focal point of my fellows-- down, almost always down. I sit and watch, and there is uneasiness of being with themselves, alone. Whether it be iPhone, Smartphone, headphones, smoking.  All to distract, all to avoid, all to escape. 
I admire, I am dumbfounded, head over feet, rejoiced when I encounter someone that has cracked open.  Who is working, struggling, questioning, even wondering about unveiling...just unveiling--themselves, the world that holds them. Big questions, big shifts, big challenge, facing fears of all fears.  Be available to crack, break. 
As an actor I was trained for details.  Trained to specifics. 
Yoga has exposed me to questions, yoga has brought me back to my breath.  Take off the veil of habits, false identities, fear.  Unmask the phony belief that we must work to produce, to obtain and reach for something external that will guarantee us and classify us as successful.  The void of happiness.  Coca-cola. 

This year i've learned a lot.  I've faced fears, I've been brave.  This designated date of end/beginning, of turning over, is beautiful. It's not easy to stop and reflect, analyze and feel. Challenges to encounter, walls to break (or at least to begin chipping through).  Let us all crack our minds a little open, and allow our hearts to break. 

Fía. 

Topsy-turvy

There are not many moments when I feel IN my skin. I mean withholding the sense of stopping time—the inner ticking—and then have a wider, more wholesome awareness of just being here. 

Here, not there.

Here.

It is a peculiar moment. It is of mindfulness, yet a contemplation of the past.  What I have done, where I have been, explains where I am now.  Having that in mind, feeling it within every pore, every inhale and exhale, knowing it in every interaction, every intention—physical, emotional, sexual, psychological. 

Do what you feel, gear your chariot, say what you mean or shut up.

Children, animals, nature, act upon such simple-straight forward laws.  When did it all become so tangled and double-sided?

Ease, dis-ease.

Want.

Need.

Birth, growth, death.

I sometimes get overwhelmed with hidden meanings, detours and subtexts.

I get burned and stabbed with lack of humanity, all in favor of personal greed, ambition and acquisition. 

Isn’t it a bit sad how, when definition of “acquisition” is defined by a dictionary as: buying or obtaining an asset or object: Western culture places a high value on material acquisition.

Work, fight, moan, grin, show your teeth (grrrr..) for acquisition.

Acquire, purchase, obtain, WIN!

“I have this and this and THIS…oh, now I’m XX”.

Something in that equation makes my system collapse, makes my nerves twitch, and I am left with the great question: what the hell am i?

In all directions, to all coordinates I scream: I have no idea, and maybe I’ll never fully know.  But I’m here to try to figure it out.  Somehow, someway. 

The searching, the finding-the getting lost, the loops, the topsy-turvyness.

I’ll dance away,

My body might cease, but I’ll always dance…

For me

For me.
For me, and only me.
For me, myself and I.

For me,
a choice,
a decision,
yes.

A constant variable in the equation,
equation of my soul,
life,
heart.

Do you wanna?
tell me.
Do you?
Do I wanna?
listen,
listen,
listen,
talk, say it, say it til you listen and react.

The catalyst of love,
the copper thread that shares, speeds and escorts.
Run through me,
let it gallop by and by,
rush, electrify.

Do you wanna?
tell me.
Do you?
Do you?
Do.
you.
Do I wanna?
Do I?
Do.
I.

Assaults
me
so.
This question.
FOR ME.

Fibonacci

0-1-1-2-3-5-8-13-21-34-55-89-144....

I don't know how to name it, I don't know how to even explain where exactly it is located.
There is a wheel, spiral, i am feeling inside of me. In my center.
It is not exactly on my chest, but more on the lower part of my sternum.
It is somewhere between my diaphragm and that key place in my body where the costal ribs are born.

In a specific soft part of my body.
Untouchable, 
I feel you.

I feel you, energy.
I feel you, essence and force of life.
That place, that gets touched when I suddenly sense your smell that seduces me.
That place, that rises my temperature when i can feel your skin just a bit closer, 
but not touching.
It is that place, that pulls me inevitably millimeters closer, almost unnoticeable.
I timidly advance, pulling, 
pulling, 
pulling in. 
And you might not perceive my pace.

I feel you, elixir.
Elixir of life.
When you leave me out of breath as I look you in the eye,
as I follow the dance of your lips,
as your neck invites me
and 
makes
me 
water.

I feel you, spiral.
The shift you provoke.
The twist you explore,
Spinning me.
Spin me,
Spin me.
I am dizzy, but so found.

The birth of a star is inside me.
The explosion in the middle of the galaxy
is also me.
Fibonacci in the sky,
Fibonacci in the ocean,
Fibonacci in my spirit.

You spin me around.
You twist and squeeze,
swivel and twirl,
you 
you
you.

And i love it. 

Tell me why?

I sit here...and i wait.
What is waiting? But maybe some missed opportunity of action.
Action, decision, control and courage.  Active thought, active feeling, active faith.

The longing, the stretching of an impulse, and the beating of a desire. 
Why sit when you can stand?
Why hold when you can run?
Why fear when you can love?

The fear that has ran through all of us. 
Fear of not being the one.
(is there one?)
Fear of losing,
(what?)
Fear of hurting,
(it's not enough).

As clouds surrounding, drowning, caressing the vast sky,
I look at the sun in rapture. 
Excited, aroused, euphoric, in ecstasy.
Your rays hit me hard,
give me a little shake,
give me a little quiver,
jiggle.

Do not wish to be common,
do not wish to be flawless
(cuz i'm not).

My colors to sparkle,
my light to penetrate through you,
fearless.

Fearless and active.
Why sit when you can stand?
Why hold when you can run?
Why fear when you can love?

Fía.

HEART

I am known to be stubborn, headstrong, maybe a little obstinate...but really I like the word "willful". 
It is the beautiful mix of being quite idealistic, sentimental, passionate and romantic (this goes beyond love affairs) with being very practical and oh-my-god following what and where i have set my eyes on. 
Stand away, because if necessary i'll push you, scratch you or out-wit you until I get it/there/you.

I think about this, and yet there is an element that I know is key to my determination.  And that is my heart.  As I type this out I hear a squeaky disturbing voice saying here you go again with the heart business.  But it is so utterly true and important, that I apologize to all of you hard-headed people. 

Heart that guides my way.
Heart that makes me jump,
spin,
swirl,
cry,
laugh,
long.

Heart, it is for you,
because of you,
to you
that I am me.

A beats that startles,
a beat that paralyzes.
beats that rise when making love.

Heart, i love you.
Heart, i feel you.

I pledge for your honor,
for your safety,
for your strength.

I kneel down.

Heart, i love you.
Heart, i feel you heart.

The warmest feeling to lay on top of you,
and feel YOUR heart. 
Our hearts. 

The laying beside you, 
watching you,
your neck 
slightly 
moving 
to your beat.

Heart, i love you.
Heart, i feel you heart.

Play a Record.

We all have certain songs that touch our souls, that make us a little bit more sensitive,
that make our necks curl a little, our pores reach out, our temperature rise or fall...

Music is touching souls, just like it might be a soft lip encounter, a projectile look, a playful touch.
Music is intense as dark chocolate, a rich red wine, a clutch, a take hold of, a passionate grip of another body against yours. 
Music is free-ing, as a window-opened road trip, a mountain, a view from the heights, the wind. 

The combination of sounds, rhythm, frequencies, silences make us travel. 
Travel,
Travel to places we like, we yearn, travel to places we fear, and yet are mysteriously attracted to. 
Fatal attraction of what is forbidden, where the impossible might just be able to squeeze in--and it haunts us from time to time, slipping in for a fraction of a second, making us tremble. 
Tremble, 
Tremble at the thought of it taking shape, for granting it even a possibility.
Possibly, most definitely shaking us a little, making us lunatics, thought-less, yet so incredibly powerful. 
Powerful,
Powerful of devising this malicious plan, deliciously mischievous, which has no desire to harm or make anyone/anything break.
Break,
Break the abstraction of time, create a new dimension with no limits, for a second, a tiny tiny second.

Music does it all.
Close your eyes and shake, tremble, stretch...stretch that thought.

Drink a whole case of wine of you,
Play a whole game of looks,
Take hold of you close and strong.

What record do you have on right now?

-Fía.

JUICIO

Sin juicio,
sin PRE juicio,
en realidad sin muela del juicio.  Ése es mi status actual. Sin una, la superior-lado izquierdo.  
Un reverendo hoyo en la encía, zurcida con un hilo obscuro.

Lado zurdo de la cara levemente hinchado, dolor punzante, malestar en el área del ojo hasta el mentón. 
En conclusión: tengo todo ese lado tomado. 

Es increíble lo limitante que puede ser la molesta consecuencia de una extracción molar.  Y yo, a mis treinta años, sacándome algo que en realidad pareciese ser correspondiente a una etapa adolescente-púber. 

Desde lavarse los dientes, succionar cualquier cosa (yo, ávida consumidora de un rico mate matutino), sonreír, hablar con full expresión, tirar un beso, cantar una canción, saltar, bailar, correr, andar en bici. 
No, no, no, no.

Y por qué muela "del juicio"? Claramente conozco más los casos de la gente que nunca ha tenido juicio (pues no le salieron), y otros que tuvieron y como buen dentista-gasfiter se lo sacaron de una. Creo no conocer a nadie que tenga sus buenas 4 muelas. 

Y aquí estamos, des-juiciados, comiendo papilla, compota, helado...hinchados como ardillas.

En todo caso me ha hecho pensar en hartas cosas: algunas bastante superficiales. Pero mi primera reacción a mi malestar actual-- cómo habrán sufrido aquellos parientes míos desde la época de las cavernas con un dolor de muela, y después extirparla a cuero-pato! Batallando con infecciones, hinchazón, comidas no muy aptas (o sea, cero licuadora, mini-pimmer, procesadora). 

También pienso en la palabra juicio.  Se utiliza con varias acepciones: 
JUICIO (Del lat. iudicĭum).

1. m. Facultad del alma, por la que el hombre puede distinguir el bien del mal y lo verdadero de lo falso.

2. m. Estado de sana razón opuesto a locura o delirio. Está en su juicio. Está fuera de juicio.

3. m. Opinión, parecer o dictamen.

4. m. Seso, asiento y cordura. Hombre de juicio.

5. m. Pronóstico que los astrólogos hacían de los sucesos del año.

6. m. Der. Conocimiento de una causa en la cual el juez ha de pronunciar la sentencia.

7. m. Fil. Operación del entendimiento, que consiste en comparar dos ideas para conocer y determinar sus relaciones.

8. m. Rel. El que Dios hace del alma en el instante en que se separa del cuerpo.

Leed con atención.  Y es bastante complejo el término.  Desde "enjuiciar" hasta fomentar el juicio, confiar en el juicio natural humano-- que yo creo corresponde a la generosidad, compasión, amor, comunidad.

Seré ingenua? Quizás. 

O muy idealista? Tal vez.

Pero creo en la bondad y en la belleza.  Y sé, creo y siento el poder de la energía positiva. 

Estar despierto, estar presente, actuar. 

Que el juicio no sea sólo un concepto mental, una idea sin cabeza ni pies ni corazón.  Que tengamos conciencia de nuestro poder y del don de tener juicio. 

Lo digo con una muela menos, en pleno dolor. 

Es así como pienso también que éste pequeño dolor (que me afecta muchísimo, pero ni se compara con otros dolores de alma o dolencias físicas más impactantes)...éste dolor me regala el momento de tomar conciencia, de utilizar mi juicio y simplemente agradecer.  

Es en éste contexto donde me encuentro ahora: recostada, baja de energía, con un foco de dolor, un leve desgano y sensibilidad de alma.  Así estoy, y lo siento y lo quiero sentir. 

Gracias cuerpo, gracias mente, gracias corazón.

Gracias juicio.

Fía.

Soar

A song sang by two.
A breath of two.
Voices that create a heartfelt tune. 
The space between.

Life.
Death.
Living. 

Sinking into each other,
falling slowly,
swimming in flight.

When eyes close and it's not black.
Giving in and giving out.
Discovering all the corners.
Fingertips.

A recipe of life:
1 ounce of pain,
5 tablespoons of desire and lust,
1 cup of smiles,
half a teaspoon of fear (optional)
mix, blend, beat with memories.
Spice with lips, hugs, caresses.
Fingertips.

This all sounds very amusing, this all sounds very clever, but what is the true recipe of life and living? My biggest fault has been trying to figure it out; sprung out from the mind,  the rationale, and what I have been taught to follow as a life.  
A life of what? A life of success? To whom? To what? For what? For whom?
Recipes, steps, instructions, dots to connect, lines to fill, answers to circle.

Moments of clarity, those moments when you are just flowing. And you feel it.  Feel it with the wind, with the sun, with your hair, with your neck and your hands.  There is no struggling, there is just game. Playing the game, surfing, traveling, rocking, singing, dancing, shouting.  

The butterfly of life and death. Both wings carrying you through. The limit is so subtle, so preciously frail, delicate. It flutters together, and this capacity of living is the same capacity of dying.
Live a little, die a little.

Live fully, die fully. It is absolutely inevitable.  
               Yet, soar.  
                    Soar.
                          Soar.
                                 Soar.
Take flight, lift up, and fly to the sun to get burned. 

Melt your skin,
ache to the bones,
and become fertile ash, bountiful soil, food for newcomers.

Soar.

Waking the Dead

In moments of rest (because I've had them) questions commence to haunt me like old wise souls. Clouds travel to me, through me, and from me, touching me in ways that are unrecognizable by my physical body.  Yet, I am touched nonetheless. 

Questions, words, ideas, smells, images, colors, tunes and rhythms. 

Lying looking at the ceiling and feeling the overpowering space between me and maybe some other curious star.  Cuddled on my side staring at a trees shadow on my wall. It dances with the wind--shaking off its old rusty dust, becoming bright green ready for more sun. Surrendered to the floor, on my belly, side of my face on the ground.  A melting drop of oil, beating.  I can hear my heartbeat, I dance with my breath, and i thank for being here and being part of the earth-- just like any other little creature that steps my same earth. 

Shoes, boots, sandals, heels detach us for where we come from. 
I place  the soles of my feet on the generous ground.  It is there to take me (you) in.  We are also stems that inhale and feed off the soil and water.  We are also leaves that shine and grow with the sun, and dance with the wind. 

Fingertips touching my own skin: feel eyelashes, feel lips, feel knees and hips.  Wake your touch and know thyself, love thyself. Feel, thank, and love. 
 We are being told not to.  To cover, imitate, deny, copy and curse for our so-called faults.  Shake it off and think of the wonder of being one and only.  One and only. Beautiful one and only.  A box of paints that can color and sparkle and twinkle just and only like you. 

Wake the dead of beauty.  Wake the so-feared human spirit.  Wake the so-called dangerous emotions and playfulness.  Wake the daring, wake the risking, wake the long-held tears and voice.  A voice that can sing, yell, howl and laugh in all it's colors.  
Wake the Dead.

Mandala

A circle.
A universe.
A drop of sap from the tree of life.

Entrances and exits.
Lines and curves.

I often wonder what made us step away and yearn for control.
Where did the original fear come from? There is no sin, there is no offense and no punishment.

But there came a time when we stopped the natural beating time of the earth, when we felt a sting, when we became cold beyond temperature drop, but deep in our soul.  When we stopped being tree, bird, air, water, dear, bear, fish and fire. 
There came a time when tears became salty and extremely scarce. We reserved the drops almost exclusively to those of our kind. We made it clear we were a "kind", and not just another. 

Time was now to be used, not prevailing.
A touch of palm, a stare, silence became a threat.
Having nowhere to go, but still traveling and moving.

Our children must be trained,
falsely under the concept of education. 
We are soldiers, not creatures of this earth. 

When was our soul so painfully removed from what sweats, breathes, cries and dances?
We are a circle, each one of us, belonging to a bigger wheel. 
A pattern and design of your own, yet belonging nonetheless. 

A circle.
A universe.
A drop of sap from the tree of life. 
That is who you are.

PIECES OF YOU

Shine a ray on me and i shall be a prism of colors.
Like water of a shallow surface I am clear yet full of vitality.
Zest, spice.
My tongue can burn.
Sweet and soft.
My lips can heal.

What is the big deal of numbers and keeping score?
I don't care of how many, i don't care of how much,
I care of being.

This being is beating for a chance.
This being pumps the blood of desire and feeling and tasting and squeezing every drop.
This being is pounding for touch.

What is to be done?
Where else is there to be?
Near,
Far,
of you.
Gone,
Here,
with you.

The wait is a ticking bomb.
Yes.
Tick-tock-tick-tock.
When will the last tick be heard?
Where will it catch us, burning and melting in each others skin.

Prism of shades.
Crystal of light.
Break me down,
into pieces of you.

Nameless

there is heaven,
there is earth,
there is hell.

Better,
Good,
Worse.

A measurement to this,
a measurement to that.
It's all in the numbers, it's all in facts.
But what if i believe in stars?

I speak another language, I listen another dialect.
I believe in hands and touch and eyes and looks.
Who is following me?

The taste of your tongue can be so sweet,
yet careless movements can cut diamonds and make everyone bleed.

I wanna feel free,
I wanna make you feel free.
The wind is in from Africa, and I can feel its heat making us all dizzy.
Tentacles that take over our heads, over our feet and over our hearts.
African beat of heat so sweet.

The wind,
perfume,
vapor.

Sillage.
What is yours?
Mine of roses and smiles and color.

Intoxicate me with yours.
I dare you.
Now.

Naturaleza

I'm a river.
You are a river.
We are a river.

Let us flow...

You are a rock.
I am a rock.
We are a rock.

Let us climb...

I am ice.
You are ice.
We are ice.

Let us melt...

You are fire.
I am fire.
We are fire.

Let us burn.

Stardust, heaven, explosion, light, fire, flame, seed and sprout.
Earth, water, currents, depth, darkness, uncertain.
Wings, winds, tides, float and give.
Arrive.

Pendulum, momentum, journey, balance.

Burn me, burn me, burn me.
ignite my skin.
I'll burn you, lift you, twist you, craze you.
burn us up and down.

River, rock, ice, fire.
Flow with me, climb me, freeze me and burn.

Three Little Birds

Three little birds outside my window.
Just like Bob Marley sang soulfully. 

Sitting under the sun, barefoot.
Opening my toes letting the rays bathe my feet entirely.  
I inhale through my soles.
Inhale and arc my back in response--wishing and waiting for you to come and steal a kiss away.

And I dream of walks on clouds of green. 
Of humid floors that shake and shiver.
I seduce the air around me, and I know I am being seduced back.

I spread my toes and the wind tickles me,
it travels through me like intoxicating smoke,
I feel taken, I surrender.

We must do a little more of that, surrender.
Compassion and surrender.

Three little birds, come to my window.
Sing me sweet songs, of melodies pure and true.
I'll feed you strawberries, water and honey.
Jasmine, honeysuckle, hyacinth,
I'll be the flower you wish.
Come close,
Smell me,
Pull me close,
Inhale me,
caress,
brush,
suck.

This is my message to you-ou-ou...

KALEIDOSCOPE

I pedal my way through the streets of my neighborhood, where I feel I travel at the speed of clouds.  I look at the leaves and the patterns they make as I rush past the trees. I'm inside a kaleidoscope.

Lucy in the sky with diamonds.
I picture myself on a boat on a river, 
with tangerine trees and marmalade skies...

I can feel my breath.  I can hear the panting, which is quite arousing.
Panting and my heart pounding.

Blood rushing inside, through me,
sweat traveling down my back, around my neck.

I travel at the speed of light, my mind has left me,
my fears are gone. 
Come here, right now, and i'll take you.
Right. now.
Right. This. Instant.

Clouds and leaves and trees and skies. Panting and blinking and sweating and licking.
Time exists to take it, life is here to walk it and taste it and staying awake to what is out there to grab and hold with your hands tight and firm and knowing that even though it won't last between your fingers forever it is in you with you for you right now and there is nothing to fear nothing to yearn or wish beyond what is there for it is all there already just open your eyes and see that it is not that difficult to notice that wanting and having is really there to feel it and taste it and smell it and kiss it and kiss it precisely strong and firm yet soft and sweet just like that vibration you feel surrounding your skin exuding your pores as your body comes close so dangerously close to that other you feel so energetically attracted to so you can have them hold them rub them breathe them squeeze them caress them push and pull them with an overpowering hunger. 

Take it
take it
take it

it'll make you point your toes and shiver and lose your breath even if you are heavily breathing because that is what desire comes down to, to the thought and feeling of being invincible of being right and yet so wrong and hot and yet so cold and in the moment so intensely it all seems a dream a hallucination a speck of gold star dust which reminds us that that is what we are: dust and star and star and dust and that those tiny unrecognizable particles are you and me and us and we have found each other.

Kaleidoscope.

Today

My system was madness.
I felt beheaded.
Didn't know up from down,
right from wrong. 

In this crazy vibe where blood was all that guided me.
Go, go, go, go, go, go.
This hummingbird was high on some flower,
Unknown.

I want(ed) to go far.
Farthest I had ever been.
I want(ed) to misbehave,
allow my back, neck to flutter.
Tip-toe my way in,
quiver.

Go, go, go, go, go, go.

I read a description that made me howl:
crash into the sky, swim in a sea of molecules, burst into flames.
Burst, blasted, burned.
The yearn of skin. 
Of heat, or breath, of moan, of groan, of wail and whimper.

Do what you want, 
do what you please.

Do what you will with me...
Shakespeare speaks through me.

Beheaded yet focused.
Conquered yet full-forced.
Fearless and ready.
Take your best shot.

Go.

And so..?

and you would come,
and i would be sitting, under the sun feeling the sun rays on my forehead.

and i would be thinking of you,
and you would slightly touch my back,
and i would shiver,
and you will make sense.

and you would maybe look away,
and i would backbend as to not lose sight of you.

and i would not hurt,
and you would curl your lip,
and i would come closer,
and you would..?

and you would dream of me,
and i of you.

and all the and's are not enough,
and all the and's will make a truth?
and so i hope,
and so i yearn,
and so it is.

- fía.

Muse

There is this soul,
there is this aroma,
a specific skin and,
peculiar eyes.
It spins me around,
takes my feet off the ground,
crushes me,
builds me,
makes me high in solid ground. 

Finding a way, where there is no way.
Energizing me, where there is yearn for sleep.
It is a dream, but i'm wide awake.

I travel.
A shooting star in another galaxy
taking me far, but at home. 
Is this even possible?

Drive    Purpose,
Stubborn     Drive,
drive me.

Surrendering   flow,
Drive   Direction,
Care me not,
drive me.

Inhale me,
i'm yours.
I'll treat you good.

There is this soul,
haunting me.
There is this...
i call on you.

O muse thou art,
O thou, i'm yours.

LA REVOLUCIÓN

Ésta es la revolución de los sabores.
La revolución de los sentidos.
Explosiones de dulce, salado, ácido, amargo y picante.

La revolución dentro de mí.  
Que el agua me quite aquel velo transparente.
Llenos de colores estamos. Llenos de burbujas excitantes, cada esquina un descubrimiento.

Ésta es la revolución de los sentidos,
te invito a saborearme,
inquietarte con lo que encuentras...
dimensiones de pasividad,
vibraciones de locura,
pies descalzos.

Mi cuello aquí está y exuda mi olor a piel.
Corazón en la mano, corazón en los labios, corazón en la mirada.

Ésta es la revolución,
sistemas a desafiar,
programas a renovar.

La revolución de los sentidos.
Sube mis decibeles!
Súbelos! A bailar!

Ésta es la revolución de los sentidos,
pues a sentir!
Ésta es la revolución de los sentidos,
de ají, canela, miel y cacao.

Giro, giro, giro,
en signo de lucha.
La fuerza centrífuga exuda mi sudor.
Giro, giro, giro.

Ésta es la revolución de los sentidos,
La marcha.
Madre coraje soy,
Digna.
Colibrí en vuelo.
Néctar.
Lengua de mariposa enroscada.

Ésta es.

--Fía.