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Unease
Once I was a sailor, one of those who tie the knots, intoxicated by the breeze of a tortuous sea and imaginary seagulls.
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Certificate of presence
My mother inside a frame. How many photographs do I have of her, of my father, of my brother, of my sister? I think the sound of the shutter delivers a sentence. Every photograph kills twice.
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Be a witness
It was easy to be a passing cloud, giving you shade, taking it away, offering you its outline.
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Silencio de rescate
A veces, basta pensarte para sostener tu sombra en mi memoria: nombrarte sin voz, con el gesto apenas de un recuerdo, como si el pensamiento fuera un puente sobre tu abismo. Y si no te alcanzo, al menos, te acompaño desde el borde.
