projections + video © pablo gimenez zapiola
poem © natalia litvinova
sound © carlos pozo
If it was possible to distill feelings
to know what time they belong to.
I fear I shudder in advance.
Take all that is in me.
What I do not have, leave it.
I will let it grow for you to come back
and pluck it.
When the future reveals itself beforehand,
and what was waiting for emancipation,
is reached liberating oneself from time,
I fall on my knees. I venerate it.
Some men have the brutal delicacy of birds.
They are the ones who, for watching me
cut the air, leave the wind ragged.
I know that if I get close to one of them, if I could get close,
he will make me an invisible cut.
I thought I had to accumulate voices
to compose the exact scream
and brush with it all that exists.
But it was enough with breathing.
Do hurt my sensibilities
I agree to them being always hurt
So I know that they exist.