My heart’s breath smells of life and of sun
in the days when heat is inhaled
The zephyr inside refreshes my existence
Outside the moon, moon
is in glare
Today Lorca dies again
and the mantle covers more than one face
in more than one country
under this same moon
We live
Today in front of the monitor, the desire to have Kaufman's ships set sail
exists deeply in the sea of our collective consciousness
In your heart exists a breath and a life with a sun.
The zephyr moves ships.
It doesn't matter if the moon, moon rises
Sep 1, 2019
Sep 1, 2019 at 8:38 AM UTC
My heart’s breath smells of life and of sun
in the days when heat is inhaled
The zephyr inside refreshes my existence
Outside the moon, moon
is in glare
Today Lorca dies again
and the mantle covers more than one face
in more than one country
under this same moon
We live
Today in front of the monitor, the desire to have Kaufman's ships set sail
exists deeply in the sea of our collective consciousness
In your heart exists a breath and a life with a sun.
The zephyr moves ships.
It doesn't matter if the moon, moon rises
I chose Lorca because to me his death is synonymous to that which created the circumstances of his death. The fear that permeated the times, the sentiments of nationalism which made terror and death seem acceptable and the highlighting of our differences and making us think that these could separate and make it possible to otherize one another.
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