Adobo Criollo Sergio Antonio Ortiz Rivera

Moonlight on a Frozen Sea Surf Frost that does not detach from my hands-I manage to live between flower and song, pink and wind. I sleepwalk on both sides of a border: bells ring at dawn in my silent village. I discover myself in limbo: the murmur of cast away words, the heavy air of the past that descends to painful areas putting aside tender  and violent  sea surf.

Bodies Traced on the Sand You and I scattered on water and sand. I look at you in silence and remember that beach. Your eyes the color of sky your white skin spilled on my mouth.

When I no Longer Want to Answer your Calls At the end of the day the body gets rid of its memory. There is nothing to confiscate from a mind that does not exist.