In a time of crisis, the peoples of the world must rush to get to know each other. José Martí

I wanted to write you
an apocalyptic poem
or maybe only read you
echoes of resurrection from Martí

to awaken your ancient soul
and toss it flowers
in the sea
with incantations to remind you
you are the embodiment
of all the times that you have drowned
just to prove there is no death

but I’m backed
against the mountains
with only this dried and diverted river
at my feet

these feet that pray such sterile prayers
as to dance to give the reason
to the music of your heart
while the silence sits
between all men

but you are far away
where the empire falls
onto its knees

and there is nothing left
between us
not the miles nor the constructions
nor any barriers we have conjured
to keep us in our place

and tonight when I will sing you
how men are like the stars
and amor cuerdo no es amor
these snowdrops will ignite
from the sea
of your subconscious dreams