To read

To hear simple lines and then

to read

no more

than what you say

and then

to feel …

Why i



a l L




are your words like glass doors open ing

upon a garden of extremes?

We killed

the trees, you and I.

We trimmed the hedges, we pruned

the flowers of forever,

we dived into the hedgerow maze

like a pair of magpies.

And we came out with silver smiles.

We came out with the ends of cigarettes

glowing between our teeth.

We came out like the pink haired memory of

a youth misgendered.

In the end,

We came out.

¿Creen que un mártir muere triste? ¡No, muere feliz porque sabe que hizo lo correcto! Al menos eso quiero creer... Porque entregarlo todo por una causa que va más allá del egoísmo y del metro cuadrado, tiene una fuerza colectiva. Te eleva y te alza la mirada a un futuro más próspero, te calienta el corazón una brisa altruista que abraza a miles de personas.

I don’t decide

I don’t decide to love you

it just happens

I don’t decide to wash up on the Siren’s

rock with a lungful of fire.

The currents are random.

I don’t decide to sink ships or

set sail in them;

I’m terrified of the ocean.

I don’t decide to make everything about

sadness but

what else is there?