I I think of her.All the time.When the world is quiet.When the world screams.When the coffee goes cold,when the wind slips through the cracksand there’s nothing left to do but endure.I think of her even when I don’t want to.Even when it hurts.Even when my body begs to forgetand my mind refuses to obey.I think …
A root that stays hidden. The scent of corn as it bursts on the flame. A flower no one planted, blooming alone by the roadside.A cloud’s shadow over thirsty soil. A candle burning for no reason. Night’s silence under stars. An old …
Last night, the news reached me: Tata Mateo Rodríguez had passed away.We weren’t close friends, nor family, not even neighbors. But the news, like the lingering note of a final chord, stayed with me—resonating softly in the air.In the rhythm of our days, between the routine and the ideas that cling to memory, something else …
