Chasing the lightnings,
on the verge of becoming a rained evening.
Consciousness flowing
with every drop of blackness all around,
there’s a nostalgia… jumping on this bed like tiny particles of smiles.
There’s a memory somewhere inside this room, too strong to be awful.
Blurred trees and the sounds of moored murders,
please play the guitar, my new companion.
I am ready to have a smudging night.

…………………………………………………………….

Photograph: Danny Gonzalez.