‘’How many trees fit in our silence?’’
Homero Aridjis
Some of us are empty, others are sensual absence like the tree, some others are inhabitants of an unreachable Quivira, others of the sun, others of the moss. I belong to this language; I have seen through the rock a fish, an excited swallow; I went down a spiral staircase to my stomach, I looked at the canopy for hours until I tattooed myself with interstices. I am an unpostponable emptiness, where every day I fall more days and nights, I am the sensual absence of the tree because I turned on the air my scales, completely light. I am an inhabitant of Quivira, because I search insatiable, sometimes enteco sometimes orphan, but always with the eyes of the child. I am of the Sun and I am of the moss, because I loved you all the corners and all the wars, I loved you yesterday from my pillow, I love you today from under the word and I will love you tomorrow as an interim sob.
Photography by Patricia Ruiz del Portal
Attention is the poetic maxim.