We woke up stunned, we appeared in the middle of a rugged place, the path of vipers and the only way. Growing up disdaining the essential, forging the metal of our chains, looking at the ground permanently.
When things started to go wrong, explanations left us stranded in the forest, all separately, blind and spitting at the sky. We fell short of the pages and paradigms that contrived the artificial light of the distant.
We remained silent, contemplating the shadows and other bodies overcome by the absurd. Hidden in the dark recesses of the ever-fallen forest we grew melancholic. What an unpleasant absence. And what a mystery.
Like faith, frozen and absent, the stars change places in the sky and the streams grow some days and others become desert. And the distant ones observe us, wanting to palliate uncertainty, wanting to palliate poetry, to silence silence itself.
Photographers: gatopalomas
