Poems in Spanish.
The word burrows deep into the chest, demands depth, and finds itself before a strange and unpayable debt that has sprung up in history, or perhaps beyond history. We are all exiles from the same dwelling, it tells us, looking at us sideways, insinuating an indecipherable grimace: expulsion from a territory, from a home, from a love, from a stone in the shoe, from a cosmic motherland.
La palabra se excava pecho adentro, pide hondura y se halla ante una extraña e impagable deuda brotada en la historia o acaso más allá de la historia. Todos somos exiliados de una misma morada, nos dice mirándonos de canto, insinuando una indescifrable mueca: expulsión de un territorio, de una casa, de un amor, de una piedra en elzapato, de una madriz cósmica.
