No body, no face, nor tears;
only a distant moaning in the desert.
Muted words lost in the sandy winds.
Prison robe, eternal damnation.
Hands scratch it, no marks.
Through minuscule holes, curious
black eyes gaze upon the male scenery.
Living dead cloaked in shadow.
Thinks, believes, hopes,
and dreams of a distant horizon
that will deliver them to the light.
Cuando ese momento esté a la lumbre de mi existencia, tu sombra colapsará la mía. Respondidas serán las palabras escritas antes ignoradas, y los timbres no volverán a pasar por
Some people have one, others have two. I have three. I found them on Tiktok, as silly as it sounds, and I was mesmerized by them for they summarize my
On 28 of April a local newspaper, El Nuevo Día, released an article title “Forbidden to take photos in San Juan (Prohíben tomar fotos en San Juan)”. I was sick