A box of memories
and parties to save.
Half a life in each attempt
and the other half in metal tweezers.
It's already a classic
follow the carrot with your breath behind here.
A millimetric disorder
brings me closer to the place.
It carries out my purpose
to be a knife and a prey at the same time.
It is not so tragic,
playing with distance and inheriting your loneliness.
Winter Quarters
breaking their silence.
Ice dolls,
witnesses of this confinement.
The mourning was so long that in the end
I almost confused it with my home.
First aid kits for amnesiacs,
legends from overseas.
Little pre-Soviet soldiers,
I signed my particular War and Peace.
There is a mystery
of maps that do not lead to treasure
nor to epicenters
about to explode.
These are the laws of physics
and time does not put itself in my place.
It's already a classic,
I lost the safe conduct and now I wait for the emissary
... who will never arrive.
Winter Quarters
breaking their silence.
Ice dolls,
witnesses of this confinement.
The mourning was so long that in the end
I almost confused it with my home.
No matter how much I go back
I can't find my memories.
I look for them, I dream of them;
what is one's own is already foreign.
The edges have fallen
and the glass is now full.
And now I'm just trying to empty
I just need to take off.
The mourning was so long that in the end
I almost confused it with my home.