Era una chicaque se asombraba de todo.
He was surprised by the gentle rain,
sunny days in the city,
was amazed at how wild a man can be;
loved the small moments,
as when a canary flew and never came back.
She was a girl
who would not take a single step
not knowing where to go.
He liked to watch life from his balcony,
and when he could, he went out,
but he always came back,
unintentionally returned.
Those days soon appeared
with whom I would learn
that pain comes
without being called.
Everything made him curious,
had a beautiful smile to everything,
really enjoyed the rain,
loved the heat
on his neck.
Your hands
replete
of small universes full of chaos.
She was a woman of innocent beauty,
that carried within it a furious animal
that it would not be long before
and that, too,
would be slow to return all freaked out.
Photography by Steven Simon
I write for myself.
For my pleasure.
For my vice.
To my own damnation.
