Ten Minutes

8:09 p.m.  Te alcanzo dentro de paredes lineas de metal ondas de

20:10        Steel, the ocean is an iron fence most nights. Freezing Celcius water on my feverish Farenheart,

8:11 p.m. Nado como un ritmo y te anhelo como rima poética aunque

20:12     You’re in distant cafés or smoking on a Santiago porch in dead night with somber wings painted on your back,

8:13 p.m. Pero decís que no sos un ángel. Sos un espíritu que comparte mis deseos

20:14      Rebel off-the-grid fleeting aquarius love of my life, filled with patience

8:15 p.m. para mí, y asco para la ciudad que te rodea, sabemos que el destino queda en el París latinoamericano,

20:16    You, interlaced with destiny and destination, interlaced with the journey of

8:17 p.m. conocer todo lo que nos espera y llama, la ausencia ya no me duele

20:18      the nostalgia

8:19 p.m.  me quiere, pero también dejamos en el pasado las pieles cambiadas


memory flood

4:30 AM amidst fear of sleep, fear of sharp sun awakening to poisonous words leaking into my mind on a broken record, alone in my independence throne.

time cracks my head into a rolling film…

standing in her dad’s kitchen, deciding whether to make brownies for breakfast, and which movie to see. back then i hadn’t stayed up past four and I didn’t share drinks.

putting the girls down for bed. singing in spanish, arabic, and french, painting nails as the dog barked, smell of old guitars. I haven’t seen them for a year which will grow into five, then ten …

first time in the waterpark, wood chips and pencil boxes, when I dreamed of college, which has shattered as easily as thin glass.