The Space Between

Dark Woods


An Ancient Voice



My Last Day in Barranco

Don't Ask Me


The Space Between

Everyone runs.

I remain still, dazed.

Somewhere between the vast sea

and the blue sky,

In the land of dreams.

Fading away,

Filled with questions.

Mystery sinking into my skin.

Seeping, burning.

Still alone,

Still waiting.


Dark Woods


in the middle of

my life, one day,

I got lost.

Dark woods,

creatures I thought I knew

but didn’t,

rituals I seemed to imagine

but couldn’t,

I didn’t stay lost

for long,

the sun peeked out

too soon,

and then I saw the path

to nothingness.



Some days I want to be a wild bird

Or just turn invisible

And be free, really free.


Other days I just want not to be seen

by mortal eyes

And be ethereal, boneless.


Most days I feel the time is near

When I will be both

Free and ethereal.


An Ancient Voice

A plume, a stone, a broken seal.

A river of words to reveal

Why can’t I feel you?


A bird, a cup, an unmade bed

Another day that unfolds

What are you hiding?


A path, a wave, an opened door

Crossroads wherever I go

Where is your kingdom?


A tree, a hill, a quiet house

Nothing that time cannot heal

Why am I trembling?


A spell, an ankh, an ancient voice

Maybe I am finally awake

Or am I dreaming?



I thought once about giving up.

A box of pills,

A bottle of rum.

Goodbye world.

But parents have six senses.

I was rushed to the ER

Where I grabbed the hand of a nurse

and asked her:

“Would you like to be my friend?”



I see them daily

I see them everywhere.

Even if I scream, they wouldn’t notice me

They wouldn’t hear me


Men and women walking

In the Garden of Good and Evil.

They think they know, they judge

But they don’t see past clouds.


Like sleepwalkers

Stepping on living creatures,

Careless, not seeing, not feeling

Just walking.


My Last Day in Barranco

A coastal town swept in fog,

A looming sense of sadness

Moon peeking above

Waves hitting the rocks.


Memories spent by the sea

arrived like burning waves.

Why if I never return

to this coastal town of mine?


Abysmal thoughts of loneliness.

The icy air froze my tears

while I was saying goodbye

to that coastal town of mine.


Inside, my head is spinning.

Instead, I drift away, alone

into an unknown world,

into the unseen.


Don't Ask Me

Don’t let your first question be:

Where are you from?

The land that heard my first cry

can’t tell much about me, like


The secrets I hide

Why I trust my wings

The ghosts that I fight

Why tears fill my eyes, and

The songs I sing aloud when I know I am alone


Don’t ask me where I am from, no, don’t ask me that yet

My face is a mirror reflecting your gaze

The answers you are seeking just won’t come that way

Don’t ask me about my hemisphere, my roots, my stars

They won’t give away my hidden scars

If you want to know me, then ask better questions, like


Do you dance in the rain?

Are you afraid of the unknown?

Do you have recurring dreams?

Have you unmasked the false prophets?, and

What stories do you tell in the dark of the night?