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...hay cisnes herrumbrosos en mi ciudad que tuercen su delgado cuello, ¡y nos alumbran!
Treatment of naming certain gestures and light wood and metal make me complicit in the destruction. But the light does not go away and smell protect me. Gesture is shown with miraculous turns to dust and imagination. I perverts the eye and the fog rolled back in her eyes. The light, the glow that never repeats and gives the fragment is no longer. The unusual caught in the deep peace, the blessed solitude that no one listens, chained forever, so fast and so warm ...
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Cuba
