On the second day we have forgotten the essentials.
On the second day we have forgotten the essentials.

I belong to a defeated generation.
Stone without light, at the edge of the road.

A dark light subverts the transparency of the world.
My past and my country, avatars that I suffer.

Humble guillotine that scourges my neck.
Lively awakening of the city in ruins.

Before being a fragment, I was a city.
Before being a city, sand.
But before everything, the wisdom of some other’s desire.

Memory,
Hidden filigree where we have been deceived.

The certainty
Of inhabiting
In a world of tears.

Carlos Garaicoa