When my kisses no longer reach you, I will give you my moles, it is something more personal, more special than my lips or any other part of my body, they are the path without a specific line that runs through me without beginning or end.
It may seem illogical, and it is, because that's how stupid things are said when there is nothing more to do, I give them to you for the memory, so that you have in your story an instance of madness and a lot of distraction.
It is for those small parts that the road is worth it, you can today with pride cover your eyes and not want to see how nice you vibrate when I'm with you, that tells me that you can love me a lot and with all that you can erase me, I can not, I enjoy you every moment savoring your words, your smells, your false identities.
When you no longer have lies to tell you can tell my moles, maybe as you go along you will realize how easy it is to smile for you, the last ones are on my face and I hope that when you arrive you will let me look you in the eyes again, without fear or hatred, alone, without prejudice, without lies, alone, you, me and the beautiful moles.
Photographers: Cecilia Gómez de Villavedón
Writer, psychologist, curious and observant, I document my days in photos and letters.
What I enjoy most in life is the feeling of water on my body, the thrill of learning something new and live music.