“Strike”. Gioconda Belli. 

I want a strike where we go all.
A strike of arms, legs, hair,
born in a strike every body.

I want a strike
pigeon workers
of drivers of flowers
Children technicians
women physicians.

I want a big strike,
extent that even love.
A strike where everything stops,
the watch factory
college campus
hospital bus
road ports.

A strike of eyes, hands and kisses.
A strike which is not allowed to breathe,
a strike where the silence is born.

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