Thursday, September 15, 2011

I saw my Mamá María.

Today, one of the most unusual nights. With some of the most regular people I see the past and the present.
The clouds break like fine glass and old memories stain the floor.
Broken and wet, the past crawl under the door and little by little enters the room.

The monkey observes while the elephant eats. 
Silence and cereal, and the sun explodes.

Dogs run and fly and more glass everywhere.

Broken and wet: the past contaminates.