And perhaps I met destiny there; I mean I was young
once too and I gave back my inheritance to be used in more
beautiful ways; I only kept mother’s armchair that I carried on
walking in all the wind-whipped roads of this black century,
“mother this world isn’t for us” I’d tell her; the pier shivered of
the old goodbyes, I used to sleep with thirty-two watches, a
suspect like a historic person, and
suddenly, before I descended the stairs life was gone; I and
Teresa sat at the opposite bar, “I want them to remember me” she
said with tears in her eyes and I ordered another round of drinks
“let us drink” I said and I thought of our future voyage: passengers
of graves towards eternity.
Libros Libertad 