To my Mom
Every nightI dream that I can’t reach youwhen you start the tripthat has set us apart. In my sore throatremain the questionsthat I never ask youand the beat of your
Despite its troubles
Every nightI dream that I can’t reach youwhen you start the tripthat has set us apart. In my sore throatremain the questionsthat I never ask youand the beat of your
Every time your eyeslook at me without knowing me,my soul crackslike a dry trunk. But I have to be a green branchto hold your trembling armand take you with a
Where are you? Don’t you get that I can´t even breath without you? I feel soguilty in a comfortable, quiet classroom, listening to a teacher talk aboutsomething I don’t care
Not every nightare equally darknor do they have dead lifeleaning on their windowsills not all sunriseswake up brightnor do they explode in colorsof exciting hope. the wet floor after the
I have put the nativity scene on the fireplacewithout forgetting the mutilated sheepthat are standing thanks to the mossin which they sink their remaining legs. The memories and emotions pile
Bob always had to be the first to get to the top. So he disappeared, running up through the wooden scale. Soon we heard him yell in horror and saw
-Do you think it’s a good idea, Ron? -Why not, Lisa? We will make her happy -I still think it’s dangerous. -We will be around and make sure nothing happens
After decades of absence, I visited the village where I spent the happiest summers of my childhood: Canet de Mar near Barcelona. My nephew, now a grown man, guided me
Maja arrived home sad and tired. Tom was worried. They just had buried her dad, and she was devastated. She had always been daddy’s girl. The one who followed his