1990
de millones de años
los años de vida
trastornos que pueden ser
la esperanza encrucijada en
sistema de vulnerabilidad

de modernización
hombres para ahogamientos
y deriva de 1980
los daños por vivir
los de la sangre
insidiosas y permanentes
baja en ****

y la glucosa original
de hombres y drogas
la falta de homicidios y
vida al nacer y
ansiedad arterial
se movieron
un cancer que se ocupaba
en algoritmos de la piel

(25 de Abril, 2015)

no de cualquiera
arriba de los demás 
a ti te estimo 

no se cuales quieran 
sean dos o cuarenta 
no hay envidia

no con cualquiera 
de uno a la vez 
a ti te guardo

ningún cualquiera
sean dos o cuarenta
a ti te admiro

no se de cualquiera 
pero a tí te miro
a ti te percibo

no a cualquiera 
se le regalan pedazos 
de lo que es uno

y es que cualquieras
hay dos o cuarenta 
de tí hay uno

qué bónito es estar viva
estar joven y estar viva 
qué bónito está el cielo
cubierto de nubes grises
transparentes de papél 
nuestros días ocupados
y llenos de pápel
qué se vea apenas el sol
a punto de llover 
qué exquisitas las palabras 
que le susurras a mi hombro
cuando me buscas tú o te busco yo
cuando toco apénas tu rostro 
con miedo a que te hagas humo 
te desvanezca el sol
y resbales de mis manos 
(como todo lo que quisiera tener) 
te pregunto sobre una cicatriz 
que tienes arriba de los labios 
sobre lo rasposo de tus palmas
lo hermoso de tus manos 
que obedecen tan divina imaginación 
tu inteligencia, tu visión 
qué bónita tu concentración
también con enojo o melancolía
tristeza o frustración 
lo que hay detrás de tus ojos 
eres música y color 
qué bónita la sorpresa 
imagína mi extrañeza
al ver a los ojos alguien 
que viera el mundo como yo
cuando conocí apenas tu rostro 
sin percibir algo especial 
de la nada en esos labios
discurso sin forzar
sobre lo bello y lo sensible 
(en ese instante me perdiste)
me hablaste primero de belleza 
así que deja te contesto
aquí va mi respuesta 
(y te digo en que me perdí) 
lleno hojas de belleza
la que veo en tu existir 

qué bónito estar viva 
estar jóven y estar viva
qué bónito día tan gris
qué bónito está el cielo 
qué bónita tu nariz
y qué linda tu boca
cuando hablas del mar
qué dulce tu voz y melodía 
tus metáforas marinas
sobre agua y licór
que con dulzura frenética 
describes el amor 
qué gentiles tus manos 
cuando juegas con mis dedos
cuando entiendes de que hablo 
concordamos en qué cosas 
sì importan; y tú me importas
cuando estando solos
no nos sentimos solos
(¡aunque te llegue solo al hombro!) 
lejos de quien no entiende 
que me miren a los ojos y digan
que nada bueno saldrá 
de lo que siento por tí 
infinito como el mar
tenías razón con lo del mar
pensé que ya se había dicho todo 
lo que se podría decir sobre el mar
ahora veo la perpetuidad
infinitud desconocida 
el mismo asombro que veo en tí
mi fascinación con las estrellas 
las del cielo y las de tus ojos
la gran bóveda y tu aura azùl
ambas me cubren siempre
cuando te escucho cantar o hablar 
cuando me preguntaste que era 
lo que me gusta de tí
y aquí está mi respuesta
mira de cuantas maneras te las digo 
qué bónito el cielo; qué bónito existir 
al mismo tiempo y sin tocarte
te juro que no son tus pestañas 
ni tus lunares, manchas de Apollo
ni las mariposas en mi estomago 
es ver lo que eres tal eres
poderte decir todo esto tan bónito
que siento por tí 
que me veas tal y como soy 
cuando te miro a los ojos 
y que te veas también a ti mismo
a través de mis ojos

in the depth of the woods
like the depths of the sea
where words roll off tongues
and run through the trees;
the skirt of the mountain
where we are free
I sat next to you
with you holding me

of the waves in the air
a bright sun on our clothes
this golden knot of our hands
the golden love that is yours
a loving edge to your voice
to hear its sweetness once more!
the girl you love by your side
where she stays, and never goes

in our home, in the woods
where we dream, where we sleep
this house that is the sky
the earth and the trees;
where the sun warms us both
with no schedule, no time
where I am irrevocably yours
and you unconditionally mine

in the heart of the woods
and the heart of our souls
the ageless, the timeless
ancient love from our cores
this golden place where we sit
we sit still, we sit free;
where I always love you
and you always love me

(21-22, April 2015)

I see you with clouded
grey nihilistic eyes
through a thick curtain
of smoke and years
it seems a little sad sometimes
if I think too hard about it
like how I've never called anyone "dad"
I never thought that was tragic
it seems like a heavy dead word
no face and no voice to go along
devoid of meaning
save for a foggy word
stranger

as I'm writing this
I try very hard to stand
in your place on this earth
realizing I don't know you at all
it’s been said my little sister
has your laugh and your smile
but I can't even remember
what you look like
what your voice is like
I never even realized I missed out
on anything at all
I had two mothers and one father
none of them were you

I don't wish I knew you
yet somehow I wish you knew me
as if it would change anything
or make you feel shame
with only my face
fifteen years in my eyes
that my mother carried alone
on her shoulders
as if I weighed nothing

maybe I'd tell you about
all you missed out on
but it'd be the same thing
as going up to any man on the street
telling him he missed out on
seeing me grow up
he'd have no reason to feel guilt
but I think you might …

you'll be gone one day
I will stand on the fresh dirt
a grey tombstone with your name
which is also my name
I wonder if you'll seem
less dead or more dead
than how dead you seem now

you've been gone for years
in fact, you were never there
which is why I don't miss you
in fact, sometimes I think leaving
or rather letting us go
was the only good thing you did
you left the archive in my head
with your name on it
empty
but even in your absence
an echo of what should have been

I do have to admit
the silence downstairs
is both peace and loneliness
I stare into the void
with milky white eyes
as I think about the things
I lost before I had
to let go
of what is already lost
and ungrasp with no fear
to long for no ghost
who might have corrupted
the very essence of my soul
but even in your absence
a stain;
whose name is but an empty shell
a word scribbled and scratched
on a cardboard box
in the back of my head
the mere shadow of a man
who has written this poem
along with me

whenever they gave awards at school
iwas always so happy to come home
and give you the white piece of paper
that read "GOLD HONORS"
i think you even used to
put it on the fridge for a while
back then all i wanted to be
was a writer
i thought people would think
it was silly
but it stuck with me

when i´d wake up you'd always have
waffles and a banana milkshake
on the table for my breakfast
i was younger than ten
but now i realize what it meant
to wake up earlier than everyone else
and make food for each
of your little chickens

we had two red cars:
one for each of you
abuelo kept his car so clean
and always smelled so clean
he’d buy flowers
for the women on their birthdays
it was a grand gesture
i understand more than ever
now that no one gives me flowers

there's this thing you used to say, Abue
about each and every one of us
how you loved us
the way you loved your fingers
each one so different
some shorter some longer
a lot of the things you say
they stick to my head
but i understood then
and i understand now
you can love a lot of different people
in a lot of different ways

it gets a little cold now
i know things are a little sad now
with no thanksgiving dinner
or christmas and midnight
with cheese and wine
it'd be so much better now i´m older
i understand things a little bit more
like how precious a warm meal is
and how things are always better
when you're surrounded
by family and warmth

the last time we saw each other
you let me read The Pigman
and we watched Persépolis together
i cry a little each time at the end
when the grandma lets the jasmine
fall in slow motion from her breast
it's the sort of thing grandmothers do
that make you feel so warm inside
like the scars from your C section
i always thought were so beautiful

it's been years since i saw you
my mom woke me up early that day
to pick you up at the airport
it was supposed to be a surprise
but I had this feeling something was up
i couldn't believe it when i saw you
my grandparents walking towards me
and i was so happy to hug you
you smell like a mother
i don't know what it means
but it's like being in the arms of someone
you know has always loved you
and knows just who you are

towards the sound of your voice I walk with blind eyes
   full of delusion and senseless and desper-ate cries

i lose hope every day and it's not all your fault
for i lose hope in it all the miser-y does not halt

and yet it still hurts me yes it is true
for you to be so far away from me,
for me to miss you

tonight-
the wind howls
as it has never howled before
shaking the windows
chilling my bones
whistling through the keyholes
slamming all doors
the wind reminds me of a voice
which can only be yours
a sound that destroys me
and I have come to adore

tonight;
the space between my fingers
the abyss mapping my heart
sting like a wild fire
and are tearing me apart
this other person stares from the ceiling;
watches me inside out
an open wound continues bleeding-
like a kiss from a torn mouth.

tonight
the very walls close in on me
every peel in the wallpaper
spells out your name
the floorboards and the curtain folds
seem to do just the same
a cold head and a conscious mind
staring blindly as they go up in flames
filled now with sweet syllables
and an even sweeter pain

tonight,
the wind howls;
and it whistles the very truth
a heart breaks and burns
turning cold and blue
the walls whisper your name
a sound that runs me through
another night ticks by
I think of you

with any luck, I thought;
we might have been the first
to go live on the moon
and do as we pleased
even if no other had landed
his soft baby boots on it's surface
where the men and women danced
with no faces

with any luck, I reckoned
we might just be the first
to dig a hole underground
full of tunnels and caves
even if no one else had dug
with his own nails as we did
where we hear no sound
whatsoever

with any luck
you would shoot yourself on the doorway
and the dogs and wild beasts
to take care of the cleaning
so as to silence for long the angry jeers
and angry eyes
that you keep pointing and laughing
what us with our sad faces

[december 2014]

would it be fair to say you only ever come
crying to me when someone else turns you
down and that’s the only time you feel like
you  need  me / / /  that’s  it  though , you
know  I’d never  not  be  there to make you
feel like someone somewhere could maybe
love you/// would it be fair to say that it’s
easy   having   me   around  to  pick  up  the
pieces when someone else ***** you up but
when  it’s  the  other  way  around you can’t
even be bothered to listen because you have
other priorities / / / you never really value
anything  you say you do but when it comes
down   to  it ...

you took me to my highest mountain
to a place i'd never known
i rose up to the greatest moment
a happiness i wouldn't of found on my own

you showed me another side of myself
full of joy and laughter and glee
i closed my mind and focused on you
i closed my eyes, to see

you created another side of myself
full of sorrow and sadness, and gloom
i lost myself thinking of you
i cry alone, an empty room

i plummet from the highest mountain
to a place i've never known
you threw me to the deepest darkness
an abyss that is my own