Poetry

Origin

November 7, 2013 • 0
The birth of light is like this: A horizontal slice in the face of the black tunnel of the hallway that leads to the room where my ill father sleeps. The light and the muted sound of his snore announce his life to the hallway. And on the the other end, my mother and my »
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Parable 1

February 10, 2013 • 5231
La noche siempre caerá sin que te des cuenta   Listen: The day will end and I will bear witness.   I make you sit beside me by the window to memorize my subject, isolating the sky from the cypress and the street lights that threaten the ceramic-urn blue’s illusion of uniformity, and then it »