I ask
for storms and rain
for a nightmare woven in the dark
for a Xana crying in my sleep

and after all of that

calmness

peace

in you.

One day the Sea called my name.

I remember I stood up in a hurry
like a boy
and undressed myself
and ran to her.

The feeling of water.
The sensation of salt, of seaweed.
Five minutes in the freezing Sea
were a full year in my body.

I can’t remember what happened then.
I walked out of her smiling
tired
with saltpeter memories.

Today
I go to that beach.
Never hear a murmur, a whistle, a sound.
No one calls my name.

But I always come back.

Quieres vivir deshabitado
saber
que estás fuera de ti
o que alguien más vive en tu cuerpo
despierta en tu cama
come tu pan
ama a tus mujeres.

Sin embargo
¿Cómo deshabitar un cuerpo
en el que nunca ha vivido nadie
pues no había cama
nunca hubo pan

si aquellas mujeres
ya amaban a otros?