its all about changing the lines of my face. i find myself standing, watching the noise, watching the time in this place where i thought i would only remain briefly. everything was planned as brief, but time passed over me and i stopped planning and suddenly everything became seconds of giving. i was lost in waves of the moment and plans where forgotten, blurred, abandoned. i remain the same i believe but my heart is now like a stone, that is heated in ovens of minutes. whenever there is heat there is an invented moment that i reclaim by force while facing the gray sky of the past. you agree, almost yawning. i do not own you. nobody owns me. there is not only nations between us, there is also our own selves. i become lonely, like an old soul, only the night can call me, and i am young enough to meet her. there is nothing more true than these spirals, where there is me and there is you and there is those others that form part of these circles. sometimes i can see you pass by these circles. i continue dreaming and you appear in these dreams. like a ghost. that of my past. you said we had a present and you said it almost like a promise. i was somehow relieved. but i returned and then the spirals continued and you seemed much far away. i still cannot find a place i would like to remain in. sometimes i imagine it could be you. but. it may be only ghosts within my forehead. como mariposas en la mente.

el sol del oeste quema mis rodillas

no cabe el sol en este cuerpo

la tarde en el desierto grita

se viaja lejos para buscar luz-

dentro del vientre vive

el desierto de cuando eras mi sombra

anoche te vi dorado

y te abrase en la noche desdentada

queriamos cruzar lo inmenso asi de sedientos

toda esa arena la sobrevolamos

silencio

solo la saliba hablaba

tu sur

yo norte

sol de la tarde quema rodillas en avenue g

new york

si, como ya lo sabes sigo sacandote la vuelta. es que tus inviernos no me agradan en lo absoluto. me sueles hacer sentirme como una vieja indeseable, abusas de mi tolerancia. me encierras. ya se que estas en desventaja ante aquella rica Lima con olor a flores de noche que me muestra todo su calor y defachatez mientras tu te cubres de hielos y no te cantan los pajaritos. pero incluso ya vez que sin decite nada me fui donde otras ciudades blancas este invierno y pense en volver a exiliarme por alla para aprender una nueva lengua, la que tu no hablas, o al menos no conmigo. pero siempre he sido asi, me atrae lo distinto cuando me aburro de lo mismo y me dan ganas de dejarte de una vez, pero cuando llega tu verano me derrito, me haces olvidarme de toda tu ingratitud y comparto sudores sin celos junto a tod@s tus enamorad@s.