Nobody can claim the name of Pedro, nobody is Rosa or María, all of us are dust or sand, all of us are rain under rain. They have spoken to me of Venezuelas, of Chiles and Paraguays; I have no idea what they are saying. I know only the skin of the earth and I know it has no name.

with your name on my mouth and a kiss that never broke away from yours.

so I wait for you like a lonely house till you will see me again and live in me. Till then my windows ache.

Love is short, but forgetting is long.

Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

When I got the chance I asked them a slew of questions. They offered to burn me; it was the only thing they knew.

I don't want to go on being a root in the dark, vacillating, stretched out, shivering with sleep, downward, in the soaked guts of the earth, absorbing and thinking, eating each day.